#just give me a moment for pity’s sake!!!!

[arsenicflame]

It's a time-honoured tradition- every time Sam comes across Izzy (and Ed) in their travels, he asks Izzy to marry him. And every time, Izzy turns him down.

At this point, Sam is asking more for the sake of it than any belief Izzy will ever say yes, a remnant of childhood dedication touched with 30 years of heartbreak and regret- though even now, a small part of him still holds out hope. Sam's promises have only got more extravagant over the years, from a job as his first mate, to a captaincy, a fleet at his command, a whole fucking island if that's what Izzy wants- but he knows it isn't though, not really. If Izzy was ever going to agree to marry him, to leave his life and go with Sam, it wouldn't be for anything Sam could offer him. Izzy never did care for flashy shows of wealth, for a ship or to be captain. The only thing that ever mattered to him was loyalty given, and loyalty shown in return. 

It all comes to a head after Stede left and came back, after Izzy lost a toe, lost his leg. Sam hasn't seen him since before things with Ed started to really slide off the rails, before stress permanently set into the lines of Izzy’s face. So, when he sees a dishevelled man with a hoof for a leg in a no-name port, he doesn't even consider the idea that he might know him. It's only when he turns towards him, and Sam catches a glance at those oh too familiar tattoos, he realises this is Izzy, his Izzy, that stands before him.

Knowing Izzy's discomfort with pity, he doesn't treat him any differently than he would in years gone by, positioning himself in Izzy's line of sight before approaching and sweeping him up into a bone crushing hug. 

“Israel-goddamn-Hands!” he exclaims, as Izzy grumbles back a begrudging “Samuel-fucking-Bellamy”, a tradition almost as old as their friendship itself. Izzy might not hug him back, but he can’t keep the corner of his mouth from twitching, just for a second.

(If Sam holds Izzy a little tighter and a little longer than usual, well. That's his business)

By the time Sam lets go, most of the crew has appeared in the town square, drawn in by the commotion. They may have given Izzy his leg and welcomed him as one of them, but still there’s an underlying tension, with nobody quite ready to set aside everything that happened before the Kraken. Seeing him cosying up to an unknown man sets everyone on edge, unsure whether to come to their first mate’s aid, or to assume that they've been betrayed once again.

When Ed sees that the yelling was Sam, his hand goes tense where it's held in Stede's. He knows the routine, has seen it more times than he can count, but as he watches them part he realises that this is the first time in a long time he's unsure of what Izzy's response will be.

Knowing that something’s different, knowing that Izzy's feeling vulnerable already, Sam doesn't go for the same flashy proposal he’s been giving for years. He doesn't promise Izzy the world, he doesn't cause a scene (or, any more of a scene than he already has, anyway). He looks at the fractured man in front of him, takes his face in his hands, and says the exact same thing to him he said when they were little more than boys. “Israel, I have to ask you. I know what you'll say, but I have to try. Come with me. Marry me and sail away with me. I'll keep you safe”

And Izzy… hesitates. He glances over at Ed, at Stede, and says to Sam “...We’re staying in port for a week. Ask me again then”

That's the moment Sam knows there is something deeply, horribly, wrong. He's not just looking at an Izzy who got seriously injured in a fight and is struggling to cope, this is something so much bigger than that- and that Ed has something to do with it. Izzy wouldn't even be considering leaving if he didn't. Whether it was negligence or something more sinister, Sam doesn't yet know, but he intends to find out.

[takemetodragonstone]

can things stop happening? i’m still trying to process the things that happened when i was 3 what do you mean there are more things

[nebulaafterdark]

The Rats (Pt. 3)

Aegon ii x Velaryon(Strong)! Reader

Summary: Aegon attempts to make peace with Rhaenyra after being forced to usurp her throne. Lucerys’ death complicates things.

18+ ONLY, MDNI. Targcest, smut, angst, violence. S2 SPOILERS

Part 1 | Part 2

“With free reign of King’s Landing, Aemond will focus his attention on the occupation of bast-” Aegon’s face flushes bright red. “Harrenhal.” He corrects himself, “and the extermination of house Strong.”

“What did you call it?” Daemon arches a brow.

“Harrenhal,” Aegon repeats.

“Before that,” Daemon prods.

Aegon sighs, looking to his wife.

“Bastardhal.” Y/N rolls her eyes.

“My brother’s term of endearment.” He explains, “a slip of the tongue.”

“Mmm,” Daemon hums. “Perhaps allegiance to your brother runs deeper than you let on.”

“I have left my siblings and abandoned my post to be here. I remain loyal to Rhaenyra’s claim and her line of succession. What else would you have me do?” Aegon scoffs.

“There are a number of things.”

“If you refuse to believe that Aegon is loyal to our queen, believe that he is loyal to me and I am loyal to my mother.” Y/N takes a protective step in front of her husband.

Daemon’s jaw ticks, frustrated and teetering near sanity’s edge. “You then, are responsible for his indiscretions.”

“I take full responsibility.” Y/N agrees, “he is here for me.”

“Perhaps he might further demonstrate his loyalty.”

“And how, do you suggest, I do that?” Aegon wonders.

“Deliver us your brother’s head on a platter.” Daemon sneers.

“Mother!”

“Am I wrong, Rhaenyra?” Daemon scoffs.

“That is enough!” The Queen slams her fist against the table. “Thank you, Aegon for the information you provided. We will coordinate with our army and send reinforcements to Harrenhal. We will send word to Cregan Stark-”

“By raven?”

“However I see fit, Daemon. Stay your hand.” Rhaenyra snaps. “You are all excused.”

Aegon is out the door just as swiftly.

Y/N flinches as it slams behind him.

Jacaerys remains stoic in the corner, saying nothing for a long while as his mother and step father begin bickering. “Sister,” he nods toward the hallway.

Y/N returns the gesture, following him out past the royal guards. “The nerve of him.” She is fuming as they begin strolling the grounds.

“That is Daemon.” Jacaerys breathes. “Pay him no mind.”

“It’s not as if I don’t want Aemond’s head. Luce is our brother, for the gods’ sake.”

Jace swallows, mouth set in a firm line. “He was our brother.”

Was…is he not anymore?

“In these dealings with Aemond, you must remember that killing him will not bring Luce back.”

“It would be even.”

“A son for a son was also even.” Her brother reminds her. “Your grievance with it hath brought you here.”

“I should have allowed the murder of a child?”

“I did not say that.”

“Then what are you saying?”

“What is even is not always right, I expect you know that by now.”

“Indeed.”

“Ravens will take too long.” Jacaerys laments, “but mother will not let us deliver messages anymore. It is a shame that our safety comes at the expense of other’s.”

Y/N draws in a steadying breath. “Pity.” She turns away, in the direction of her chambers. Aegon is waiting for her there, sipping from a pitcher of wine. “Did they not give you a cup, my darling?”

“Hmm,” Aegon hums into the container, “of course.” He lowers the pitcher from his mouth, “but this is faster.”

The princess puts a hand to her head.

“I am not a dog that’s been kicked, do not look at me that way. As if I am weak.”

“I love you and you are hurting.” Y/N sighs, “I do not know how else to look at you.”

Aegon mulls this over for a moment. “I did not mean to call it bastardhal.”

“I know that.”

“You are not a bastard.” He presses on, “I am sorry for ever calling you one.”

“You are forgiven.” It is nothing more than a word. It cannot harm her anymore.

“If no house would claim you, then I would.”

Y/N gives him a sad smile, “thank you, Aegon.”

“You think I jest? Or does it simply mean nothing coming from me?”

“It means everything coming from you,” Y/N takes a step toward him. “Forgive me if I have made it seem-”

“No,” Aegon shakes his head, “forgive me. I am lost in this. I mustn’t take my frustration out on you.”

Y/N cups his face in her hands. “If you are loved by no one, know you are loved by me.“

“Without you I have nothing.” He reaches a shaky hand out, stroking her hair, reverently. “I am nothing.”

She draws back, searching his eyes. “That is not true.”

“If you ask me to slay my brother, I will do it.” Aegon breathes.

Y/N presses her lips together. She had not asked, Daemon did. But Aegon does not bend to Daemon’s will, only hers.

“Please do not ask.” He murmurs with wide, sad eyes.

Y/N cannot stand to see him cry. It tears at the depths of her soul. She wraps her arms around him, “I will not ask.”

Aegon clings to her. “I would do it.”

“I know, my love.” Y/N presses kisses to the side of his face. She knows his sadness, the burden of being least loved by everyone else. Some part of him will always seek to win her approval, her affection… her love.

He is pawing at her then, at the laces of her dress. He does not know how to comfort her, nor himself. He knows how to bring pleasure so blinding it nearly drowns out the pain.

Y/N helps him remove his clothes, wrapping him up in her arms. “I love you.”

“As I love you.” He’s stumbling backwards then, hovering over her on the bed. Easing his cock into her.

She sighs, losing herself in the gentle rocking of his hips. There is no haste to reach their peak, taking what little comfort they can from each other.

It is not until his thumbs skate over her cheeks that Y/N realizes she is crying. Even here, on their marriage bed, there is no end to suffering. Only an end to loneliness.

————————————————————————

Y/N waits until Aegon is sleeping soundly to clamber from the warmth of his arms and dawn her riding gear. Dragonstone is quiet as she makes her way down to the dragon pit. Stormborn is nestled in beside Sunfyre, her light blue scales complement the golden hue of her companion.

“Where are you off to at this hour, your grace?” One of the keepers asks.

“I’m going to take Stormborn out for a bit of fresh air. The moon is beautiful this evening, don’t you agree?” Y/N smiles, tucking a bit of loose hair behind her ear.

“Indeed, Princess.” He eyes the sword, sheathed at her back.

“This is only a precaution,” Y/N lies, “we can never be too careful in these times.”

He nods, “I will saddle her.”

“Thank you, Marcelo.” Y/N nods, tugging on her riding gloves as she waits. Tapping at her wedding band, beneath the cool fabric.

“She is ready, your grace.”

“Thank you, again.” She says, climbing up onto Stormborn’s saddle.

“It is my great honor.” The man smiles, watching in wonder as the princess sets off across the sea.

Only a few torches are lit at the entrance of Harrenhal.

Y/N lands near the stone walkway, striding up to the tall hooded figure and ripping back his cloak.

Aemond turns to his assailant. “Y/N?”

“Take out your sword.” She demands.

“Lucerys death was a tragic mistake, a lapse in judgment I do not care to repeat.”

“I will not kill you with your back to me, I am no coward. You will face me, take out your sword.”

“For the sake of the gods, Y/N,” Aemond growls. “Do you aim so desperately to break my brother’s heart?”

“I will not allow the slaughter of innocent people. This ends here.”

“A brother for a brother it will be then, not a son for a son.” Aemond reluctantly withdraws his weapon.

Y/N charges him, in a blind rage, their blades meet, clanking together.

“You make a better sparring partner than most.” He draws his sword away, narrowly dodging her next attack.

“This is not a children’s game, I want your head!”

Aemond purrs, “you must earn it then.”

She sees red, swinging at him again, until his blade slices across her side and she has cut deep into the flesh of his leg. Bringing the Prince to his knees, with her sword at his neck.

“Do it,” Aemond insists, “you will not get another chance.” He stares up at her blade, dripping with his blood. The fear etched into her eyes, tresses of dark hair clinging to her sweat damp skin.

In this light, each of them resemble their brother.

The end Y/N desires is so near she can taste it, rising like bile in her throat. She chokes on it. “No.” She drops her blade from his neck, covering her aching side instead. “No.”

Aemond hangs his head. “I am sorry for that business with Luce. I lost my temper that day.”

“And I lost my…” No, she cannot say it, the pain is too great.

“Let me see your wound.” Aemond insists.

In her shock, Y/N obeys.

He tears across the bottom of his cloak, knotting the material firmly around her torso. Unbothered by her hissing protest. “This will hold until you reach Dragonstone. Go to Aegon, he will tend you.”

“You must leave this place.”

“You have my word.”

“And you must leave King’s Landing.”

Aemond smirks, “where would I go?”

“Anywhere.” Y/N suggests, “take Helaena and your children. We both know, she is too kind to bear the weight of the crown and our blood. Take her away so she might be happy…and free.”

“Do you not wish to be free from the weight of the crown?”

Y/N hesitates for a long moment. “I am the crown. I am my mother’s heir, her only daughter. I cannot abandon her, she has lost too much.”

Aemond swallows, “very well. Helaena will write you. You and my brother might visit, once we’re settled.”

“Perhaps we will.” She will never forgive him for Lucerys. They will never be as they were before Storm’s End. “You are my husband’s brother and husband of my dearest friend.”

“I am also your brother’s murderer. A title that trumps all, despite your best intentions. You are good, and kind, but human all the same.”

————————————————————————

“Aegon.”

“Hmm?” He reaches for his wife, blindly, stroking a hand over her dark waves. “What have you done to your hair, darling girl?” He grumbles, “it is awfully coarse.”

Jace bats Aegon’s hands away. “My sister is gone, you buffoon. Get your clothes on.”

“Jacaerys?” Aegon springs up, covering himself with the top sheet. “What are you doing?”

“Y/N is missing. The dragon handlers informed me that she left on Stormborn nearly two hours ago. Sunfyre has been yowling ever since.”

“Alert your mother,” Aegon demands, “raise the guard. Who on earth let the heir to the throne take a dragon from the pit in the middle of the night?”

“She is a princess, not a prisoner.” Jace reminds him, “I have a hunch as to where she went.”

“Harrenhal.” Aegon begins tugging on his clothes. The little brat bedded him and snuck off; again. “She will be a prisoner upon her return. I tire of these games.”

“You mustn’t be so harsh, my sister would go to the ends of the earth for you.”

“Yet she will not stay with me.” Aegon steps into his boots. “Surely she loves me so dearly that she flees at every opportunity.”

“Do not see it that way.” Jace sighs.

“I have no other way to see it.” Their chamber door swings open, revealing the woman in question.

“Aegon,” Y/N chokes. The blinding rush of battle is gone, leaving only her pain.

“Leave us,” Aegon waves a dismissive hand at his nephew.

“Y/N,” Jacaerys looks to his sister instead.

“I am well, brother.”

“You are bleeding.”

Y/N glances down at her wound, “perhaps you might go quietly to the maester and request milk of the poppy?”

“The maester should tend you,” he argues.

“Aegon will tend me, tis but a scrape.” Y/N insists.

Her brother squares his shoulders. “Very well, I will be back.”

“Thank you, brother.” Y/N forces a smile as Jace exits the door.

“What happened?” Aegon demands, squinting into the dim light as his wife stands before him, in her riding gear.

“I could not do it.” Y/N curses her own weakness. “I went to Aemond, I stopped him from taking Harrenhal and I let him go.”

Aegon shifts her garments aside to reveal the damage. A long bleeding gash, beneath her ribs. “Aemond did this to you?” He sits her down on the foot stool, pacing in the small space before it.

“We dueled,” Y/N admits. “I made my mark on him as well.”

“Gods be good.” Aegon breathes.

“If Daemon catches word of this-”

“You are injured. That is where my interests lie, not in the folly of men.” Aegon seethes.

“He has already condoned the murder of children. Helaena’s children, of all people. What will he do if he hears of this?”

Aegon passes a hand over his face. “Surely we cannot leave the wound open like that, it will fester.”

“I know,” Y/N nods. “We must seal it up, with a heated blade. We can do it here, no one need know.” She reaches for his cup on the dresser, chugging the foul liquid down for some relief.

“You’re asking me to…” his eyes dart to his dagger, abandoned near his boots. “No.”

“Aegon.”

“I can’t.”

“It will be quick,” she reasons. “It will scar, but it is on my side, you will not look upon it often.”

“That is what you’re concerned with,” Aegon snaps, “of all things, you think I care about the scar it will leave? That I might frown upon an imperfection?”

“I-”

“You are maddening.”

“I am sorry. I do not wish to fight.”

“It is unavoidable from what I’ve heard. Marriage causes strife and disagreements.”

“Not ours,” Y/N insists, “you are the only person who understands me.”

“I do not understand why you would put yourself in danger.”

“For you.” Y/N tells him. “So you would not have to choose between your wife and your brother.”

“I would choose you, imbecile.”

Y/N bares her teeth. “I couldn’t let you.”

“Why?”

“Because you are mine, Aegon! I protect what is mine.”

In the way of the dragon. And that, Aegon understands very well.

“Here it is,” Jace returns with milk of the poppy.

“Thank you,” Aegon takes the gauntlet, bringing it to his wife’s lips. “Drink all of it.” He demands.

“Is there anything more I can do?” The other man asks.

“Rest the blade of my dagger over the fire until it glows red, then bring it to me.”

Jace nods.

“First, might you find something for her to bite down on. Leather works best.” Aegon purses his lips, “bring me my belt.” One of them is still etched with her teeth markings from Laenor’s birth. He’s delivered two of their children, surely he can do this.

Jacaerys rushes to the armchair beside the bed, tugging Aegon’s belt free and placing it on the foot stool beside his sister.

Y/N curls her fingers around the harsh material. Her vision has doubled, swaying from side to side.

“Are you going to faint?” Aegon catches her face between his hands.

“I feel fine,” Y/N slurs.

Aegon taps her chin. “That is good, my dearest love. I am going to remove your shirt.” He eases the material over her head, leaving only the bindings to cover her breasts.

“The blade is ready,” Jacaerys calls, from the fire place.

“Open.” Aegon tugs at her bottom lip with his thumb until her jaw goes slack, taking the leather belt from her clenched fist and placing the strap between her teeth. “Bite.”

Y/N clamps her teeth around it.

“Good girl.”

Jacaerys approaches, handling the instrument with care.

“You will hold me around the waist, you are not to let go until I say.” Aegon instructs, waiting until she is wrapped around him in an awkward sort of hug. “There you go.” He pats her head before taking the dagger from her brother. He offers no additional warning before lying the blade flat across the expanse of her wound. The cut is a clean one, without jagged edges.

Y/N lets out a muffled cry.

“Shh,” he hushes her, holding the heat to her skin for just a moment more before tossing the dagger away. Gingerly withdrawing the belt from her teeth. Resting his forehead against hers as whimpers settle to deep breathing. “Are you alright?”

Y/N nods.

“If you dare leave me again, Gods help me, I will shackle you to my side.”

Y/N strokes a hand over the side of his face. “Yes, Aegon.”

“I do not jest.”

Part 4

Taglist: @minttea07 @callsignwidow @fallout-girl219 @syraxnyra @vickynephilim @jeondeluxe111 @geeksareunique @arya-brooke @7minutes-tomidnight @ninastyless @aleemendoza2425-blog @livingdead-reilly @whenmypartysover @darlingisntit @nayaniasworld @uniquecroissant @spacexdrago

[theemporium]

[3k] too many shots and a bet leads to a very interesting night out. it's just a shame neither of them can remember it and the whole world is discovering the details alongside with them.

series masterlist

.

RING! RING!

The first thing you were painfully aware of was the annoying shrill of your phone echoing from some distant corner of the room. 

RING! RING!

The second thing was the fact you had forgotten to close the blinds last night, meaning the blinding rays of the Nevada sun were doing their best job in dragging you out of your comforting slumber like irritating parasites. 

RING! RING!

And the third thing was that whoever was trying to call you was seemingly very insistent to get in contact with you, if the three calls in a row (that you were so far aware of) were anything to go by.

RING! RING!

“Oh my god,” you groaned as you pulled the edges of the pillow over your ears, hoping it would muffle the ringing shrills. But when the phone continued to ring and the noise only seemed to get louder, you were forced to throw your hand out and blindly try to grasp the cursed device in hopes of making the noise stop. 

Your fingers wrapped around the buzzing phone, your eyes still firmly kept shut as you kept tapping the screen until the ringing stopped before you brought it to your ear. “You better have a good fucking reason for calling me.”

“I hope you are doing something you enjoy.”

You frowned, your brain taking a few moments to process the voice coming through. “Arthur?” 

“Like, I hope you are fulfilling your lifelong wish right now.” 

“What the fuck are you on about?” You grumbled, exhaustion hitting your body just as badly as the rays of sunlight shining through the open blinds were. “It’s too early for your riddles.”

“I am just saying that I think you should be doing something you love before Charles kills you.” 

You let out a non-committing hum. “And why would he kill me?” 

“Many reasons but I think getting married in Vegas last night is easily the top of the list right now.”

Your eyes shot open when you heard the words leave Arthur’s mouth. It felt like ice had doused your entire body as you quickly sat up in the hotel bed, now painfully aware of the pounding headache that only tequila could give you. 

“WHAT?”

“Congrats, by the way. I do pity the poor guy you locked up though.” 

Now painfully aware of the situation, your eyes grabbing onto any detail that would hopefully prove your brother wrong. Unfortunately, all you seemed to find was evidence that he was telling the truth if the white dress, the horribly large costume jewelry ring on your finger and the abandoned veil with ‘NEW BRIDE’ on the floor were anything to go by. 

“Oh my fucking god,” you breathed out, feeling though as you were going to empty your stomach’s contents any moment now. “How do you know? Why didn’t you stop me?!” 

“I wasn’t with you! I just opened Twitter and found pictures of my sister outside a wedding chapel and all over some random guy!”

“I married a stranger,” you hissed out, your lips parting in shock. Tequila made you do many questionable things, but even this was bad for you. 

“He’s your husband, it’s a bit offensive to call him a stranger.”

“Arthur, I swear to god—” You cut yourself off as your eyes fell on the large lump in the bed next to you. It took you an embarrassingly long time to realise it was another human. It took you even longer to tear your eyes away from the cheap suit he was wearing before you looked up at his face. “Oh my fucking god.”

“What?”

“Charles is going to kill me,” you breathed out, your heart pounding like it was lodged in your throat. 

“Yes, we established that when I called you—”

“Charles is going to kill me when he finds out I married Max,” you continued, lost in your own daze that you barely acknowledge your spluttering brother on the other side of the phone.

“YOU MARRIED MAX VERSTAPPEN?!” 

Unfortunately for Arthur’s sake, you quickly hung up the phone. You could barely process the fact the Dutch driver was currently passed out on the bed next to you, let alone doing so with your brother screeching in your ear the whole time. The phone was abandoned on the bed as you stared at the Dutchman, your brain working on overdrive as you tried to work out what to do next. 

So, you did what any reasonable person would do and shoved him off the bed. 

“OW!” 

You froze for a moment before you crawled over to the other side of the bed, peaking over the edge and down at Max who was currently groaning on the floor from his impromptu wake up call. 

“What the fuck was that about?” He grumbled, blinking a few times before he realised who was hovering over him. “What the fuck are you doing in my hotel room?” 

“This is actually my hotel room,” you replied. 

“Oh,” he muttered. “Then, what the fuck am I doing in your hotel room?”

“Well, it’s what a married couple do,” you commented. 

Max’s brows furrowed together. “What?”

You lifted your left hand, the ring now on display and you could practically see the cogs turning in his head before the realisation hit him. “Do you think this counts as our honeymoon?” 

“WHAT THE FUCK?!” 

...

...

“How did this happen?” 

“Tequila,” you muttered with your nose scrunched in disgust as you watched the Dutchman begin to pace the hotel room. If you cared enough, you would be concerned about him wearing down the carpet. Though as of the current moment, your priorities were currently elsewhere. 

Max turned to look down at the certificate he had found stranded beside your veil on the floor, your names and signatures clearly printed on the piece of paper—which took out the small piece of hope that this was just some elaborate prank set up by Arthur.

“How did we get that drunk though?” Max questioned, his brows furrowed together. If he wasn’t so confused, he would be more embarrassed at the fact he clearly couldn’t handle his alcohol as well as he once could. 

“Well, it’s your fault,” you commented casually, which had the boy whirling around to face you. 

“How is this my fault?” Max scoffed.

“You made the bet!” 

Max’s frown deepened. “What bet?”

“At the hotel bar,” you stated like it was a basic fact he should have remembered. “When I bumped into you—”

“We bumped into each other,” Max chided. 

“—you were the one to suggest shots,” you pointed out.

Max gave you a look. “How is that a bet?” 

“Because you said I couldn’t outdrink you. I said you would be a sore loser. And then you bought us ten shots each.” 

He blinked. “Huh.” 

“I’m pretty sure it was also your idea to go to another bar afterwards when we got kicked out the hotel bar,” you said in a sing-song voice.

Max scoffed. “Absolutely not. You were the one that said only losers go to bed after one bar.” 

You shrugged. “I stand by it.”

Max let out a laugh, a little breathless like he was trying to hide it. He shook his head, glancing down at the certificate one more time before shrugging. “It’s not really that bad, to be honest. A bit embarrassing, but what people don’t know won’t hurt them.”

Your expression turned sheepish. “About that…”

“Who knows?” He asked in a blunt voice. 

“Well, Arthur knows,” you started. 

“That’s not that bad,” Max scoffed, his shoulders relaxing. “Wait. Charles doesn’t know, does he?”

“Not yet,” you said before quickly continuing. “But he probably will because the paparazzi caught us last night and now the pictures are all over the internet.” 

Max blinked. “AND YOU DIDN’T THINK TO START WITH THAT?” 

“You’re grumpy when you wake up!” You defended, watching as the boy rolled his eyes at you.

“The whole world thinks we are married!” Max countered before sputtering out a laugh. “Well, we are married. Or we aren’t. I’m still not totally sure but I don’t need your brother chopping off my balls over it!”

“He wouldn’t!”

Max shot you a look.

“Okay, he would,” you grimaced before giving him a shaky smile. “But he doesn’t know yet so we should be in the clear—”

BUZZ! BUZZ! BUZZ!

...

...

“Okay, I have good news and bad news.” 

Max looked at you expectantly. “And?” 

“Bad news: Charles now knows,” you said with a shaky smile. “Good news: he doesn’t know it’s you!” 

Max pressed his fingers into his temples, trying to rub soothing circles. “Fucking hell.” 

“But also bad news: he is coming here right now as we speak so we should probably—” You started, fully set on grabbing what you needed and hiding out somewhere else in the hotel until Charles calmed down. However, your plans were put on hold when you heard a groan from the bathroom. 

“CAN YOU BOTH PLEASE SHUT UP?”

Your gaze caught Max’s as you stared at each other, both with expressions mixed between confusion and surprise. A few seconds passed before you were both clambering off the bed, heading towards the bathroom where you threw the door open and scrambled to turn on the light before you both froze in the doorway at the sight in front of you.

“Now that was unnecessary.” 

You gaped at the sight of Yuki curled up in the bathtub, dressed in a similar looking suit to the one Max was wearing along with what you were certain was the shower curtain placed over him like a blanket. He had a pillow behind his head and sunglasses over his eyes, and for all intents and purposes, he looked fairly comfortable. 

“Oh my god,” you breathed out. “I married two drivers last night?!”

“I hope you at least married me before Yuki,” Max grumbled, only to let out a small wince when you elbowed him. “God, you’re a difficult wife.” 

“Kinda going through something,” you snapped back before your eyes moved back to the Japanese driver. “I can’t believe I married you and Yuki.”

The driver in the tub let out a scoff mixed with a laugh. “Please, you didn’t marry me. You’re not my type.”

You blinked, unsure whether or not you should have been offended by his comment. 

“The ring on your finger says otherwise, mate,” Max commented, the ring a matching one with the one that was currently on your left hand.

“I married someone but not you,” Yuki said as he waved you off, nuzzling his face back into the pillow. “And our wedding was much classier than yours.”

“I—” You frowned. “You remember?” 

“Yeah, you said you wanted witnesses,” Yuki grumbled, bringing the shower curtain up until it was tucked under his chin. “You also dragged Lando out so he would take your photos.” 

Max gaped. “Lando was there? Lando knows?!” 

“Yes, now can you please go bother him?” Yuki muttered under his breath. “And turn the lights off as you leave. Only wake me up when you order food.” 

...

...

“Don’t make me an accomplice in your crimes.” 

“Shut up and let us in.” 

You weren’t surprised to find that Lando and Logan were already in the room, both with looks of amusement on their faces as they watched you and Max wander in—still dressed in your wedding clothes from the night before. 

You wanted to slap the smug looks off their face. 

“Is it really a good idea to hide here?” Max asked as he took a seat on the edge of the bed, feeling as though the headache pounding through his head had nothing to do with the alcohol he consumed last night and more to do with the mess you both had created.

“It buys us time,” you insisted. 

“On the chance that Arthur doesn’t rat you out,” Logan added. 

“You told Arthur where I was?” Your eyes widened before you turned to look at Oscar. “Do you want me dead?” 

“You know, something about the way you’re wording that makes me feel like it’s a trick question,” Oscar commented with a suspicious look on his face.

“Oh my god, I’m going to die today,” you muttered under your breath, shaking your head. 

“It’s kinda romantic that you guys will die together,” Lando chimed in as he grinned between you and Max. 

“If I survive today, I’m going to run you over,” Max threatened with a strained smile on his lips.

Lando snorted, shrugging. “Yeah but the chances of that happening are low so…”

“Your brother doesn’t even know my room number,” Oscar pointed out. “It will take him ages to convince the desk to give it to him or even hunt—” 

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

“This is what English teachers meant when they taught us poetic irony,” Lando laughed, all giddy and happy.

“Like you paid attention,” you grumbled, eyes narrowing on the boy before you turned back to the door. “Don’t answer it.” 

Oscar’s eyes widened. “I can’t not answer it.” 

“Yes, you can,” you said bluntly. “Just don't open the door.”

“He knows we are in here,” he hissed. 

“We don’t know that for sure.” 

“OPEN UP! I CAN HEAR YOU! SOMEONE OPEN THIS DOOR RIGHT NOW OR I SWEAR TO GOD—” 

“Even more reason not to open the door,” you said, pressing your lips together to hide the wince that you wanted to let out as Charles thumped on the door again. 

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Max grumbled as he quickly stood up, ignoring your pleas to just pretend your brother didn’t exist. He reached the door, yanked it open and braced himself for the wrath of an angry Charles Leclerc.

Much to his surprise, the Monegasque barged straight past him and headed straight for Oscar instead. 

“You!” Charles gritted out through clenched teeth as he reached to grab Oscar’s collar, firsting the material in his hands. “What do you have to say to yourself?” 

Oscar’s eyes widened as Charles backed him into a wall. “What?!” 

“Marrying my sister in Vegas? What the fuck is wrong with you?” Charles continued. 

It didn’t take long for Lando to descend into a fit of giggles, practically on the floor if it weren’t for the fact Logan was keeping him on the bed. Somewhere still standing by the door, Arthur stood with an amused look on his face that only grew wider when he saw your confused and shocked expression too. 

“I didn’t marry your sister!” Oscar said to him, trying to push the boy away but he was latched on tightly. “I was literally in bed by nine!”

“Loser,” Logan grumbled under his breath.

Charles faltered, his eyebrows furrowing together. “What?”

“I wasn’t the guy to marry your sister,” Oscar repeated, finally managing to pull Charles’ hands off him. “I don’t think there is enough alcohol in the world for me to do that.”

“First Yuki and now him,” you scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest.

“If you didn’t marry her, then who did?” Charles questioned. 

It was almost comical how quickly everyone turned to look at Max, who was still standing by the door and looked like he was contemplating just dashing out the room.

“You,” Charles muttered out, his eyes narrowing on the Dutchman. 

“In my defence,” Max started as he gave the boy a smile, though it didn’t seem as confident as he was hoping it would be. “I didn’t know I married her either.”

“I am right here,” you huffed. “Jesus Christ.” 

“I am going to—” 

“Nothing. You’re going to do nothing,” you jumped in, taking a step so you were blocking his line of vision of Max. “It’s just a…phoney, fake marriage. It’s not that big of a deal, Charles. People will forget by next weekend anyways.”

“Uh,” Logan cleared his throat. “It’s actually very legal all over the US and in some other places—”

“Shut up, Logan.”

“Yes, ma’am.” 

Charles narrowed his eyes on you. “You’re not allowed to marry him.”

“I already did,” you pointed out with a sheepish expression. 

“I don’t care.” 

“Charles,” you stepped towards him, though the boy still looked like he was contemplating parading into the paddock with Max’s head on a stick. “Charlie, please. Don’t do something stupid because you’re annoyed.” 

“I want to cut his dick off,” Charles told you.

“I know.”

“And you can no longer have alcohol unsupervised.”

“That’s a tad dramatic.” 

“And no consummating the marriage.”

“That would be difficult to do if you cut off his dick anyways.”

“Can we stop talking about my dick?” Max chimed in with his hands locked in front of him, almost protectively.

Charles sighed. “But I promise I won’t kill either of you. Today.” 

You grinned as you reached towards your brother, wrapping your arms around his neck as you pulled him into a hug. “Thank you.”

“You should tell Maman before she finds out through the internet,” he murmured, pausing for a moment before continuing. “Maybe shower first. You stink of tequila.”

“That would be kinda hard to do considering Yuki is currently asleep in my bathtub,” you commented. 

Charles opened his mouth to reply but just shook his head. “I’m not even gonna ask.”

“Good, because I don’t have answers,” you murmured with your lips turned down. “And he’s really snappy when you try to get them from him.” 

Charles snorted. 

“So, that’s it?” Lando suddenly spoke up from behind you both. “God, that was not worth getting out of bed for. I expected more drama.”

“I’m still pissed at you,” you told the Brit, who just grinned. 

“I’ll send you the photos later, don’t you worry,” he said like he didn’t just hear the words that left your mouth. “Maybe one of them will inspire angry Charles again.”

“Please don’t,” Max grumbled. 

“It won’t be necessary because we are finding a divorce lawyer,” Charles stated simply, pressing a chaste kiss to the top of your head before he began making his way to the door, nodding for Arthur to follow him. “Both of you get dressed. We are leaving in an hour.”

Both you and Max gaped at the boy, but he didn’t notice. 

“And someone take one for the team and wake up Yuki. I vote Lando.” 

Lando frowned. “Woah, wait a second–”

“ONE HOUR PEOPLE!!”

...

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri and 133,728 others

yourusername call me mrs verstappen

view all 12,892 comments

oscarpiastri sometimes i wonder if you just enjoy pushing charles over the edge

yourusername yes

user WHAT

user it was real?????

user oh my god IT WAS MAX?

user someone sedate me

user this is some wattpad level stuff wtf the book tropes????

user i need to know how charles reacted when he found out

arthur_leclerc badly

maxverstappen1 i mean it was an accidental name but i guess it suits you

yourusername you like meeeee, admit it :)

maxverstappen1 i think i legally have to agree because you're my wife

yourusername damn don't sound too enthusiastic about it

user i just know charles lost years of his life over this

landonorris uh photo creds?

yourusername no

landonorris rude

charles_leclerc take this down

yourusername no

charles_leclerc you are a leclerc, not a verstappen

yourusername the marriage certificate says otherwise

charles_leclerc please stop reminding me

pascaleleclerc welcome to the family maxverstappen1

charles_leclerc MAMAN?????

maxverstappen1 thank you? i think?

pascaleleclerc dinner will be at 6 when you are back in monaco

maxverstappen1 yes ma'am

charles_leclerc MAMAN WHOSE SIDE ARE YOU ON????

.

[sttoru]

⠀ 𝝑𝑒 ⠀⠀ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. your roommate, toji, can’t pay rent - again. he promises to pay you back soon, but you’re tired of his behaviour.

tags. (perv) roommate!toji fushiguro x female reader. smut, pōrn with plot kinda. dirty talk. rough. p in v -> unprotected. crēampie. fīngering. praise. reader gets called ‘princess, girl’. degrādation. toji’s a womaniser and asshole, like i’m talking dusty, manipulative asshole. unestablished relationship.

“that shit again?” toji rolls his eyes as he lazily switches between the channels on the television. he knows exactly what you’re going to say next. your complaining has a certain pattern that he’s picked up on.

he smacks his lips after being done with his snack. your snack - the one you put your name on before putting in the fridge. the dark-haired man shrugs, “i told ya, girl. i ain’t got the money this month.”

your head feels like it’s going to explode with anger. you know toji has the money. you saw him count the bills on his bed just yesterday, when you passed by his room to go to yours. “yeaaaah - gambled it all away, right?”

the usual excuse he uses. you’re sick and tired of hearing that for the nth time. it’s the same story every month. toji’s a lazy bastard. he’s living off your salary at this point. unapologetically.

“yep,” toji yawns, not even attempting to sound convincing, “got that right.” he knows you’re not going to do anything about it, so he takes advantage of that fact. you’re all bark, no bite.

you always tell him that you’re going to kick him out if he doesn’t pay, though you never take the action you swear on doing. toji has you wrapped around his finger and he knows.

even now, he notices the way you try not to look down at his body. his black shirt is slightly lifted, showing his happy trail that stops at the waistband of his boxers. the fact that he’s sitting on the couch with his legs spread only makes the sight more appealing.

“well, pack your bags then,” you cross your arms after succeeding into averting your attention to the problem at hand. you point at the door with a nod of your head, “i want you to leave by tonight.”

toji struggles to hold back a chuckle. he’ll play along for your sake and act upset by the situation. the tall man sighs and throws his hands up in defeat, trying to gain some pity, “aw, c’mon. have some mercy on me, yeah?”

you’re the one rolling your eyes this time. you’re not going to be naive about this anymore. you’re not going to fall into his trap. you stomp your way over to his room and grab the bag he uses for the gym, aggressively filling it with a bunch of his clothes.

“you’re going out,” you hiss as you walk back to your living room. you throw the filled bag at toji’s chest without hesitation. you know that you’re no match to a grown man, but you’re too fired up to care, “out. i don’t need some useless bum like you in my house.”

toji’s grin drops. his jaw clenches as he gets his bag thrown at him. you seem more serious about this. normally, you’d just cuss him out and lock yourself up in your room. you’re slowly breaking out of the helpless cycle you were in.

“move it,” you huff. your patience is wearing thin. you stand close to toji, your legs nearly touching. you’re towering over him as he sits on the couch, which gives you all the needed confidence. though if he were to stand up it’d be the exact opposite.

toji frowns and starts to realise that his usual manipulation tactics won’t work. he’s trying to think of other ways to distract you of your current dissatisfaction. some more… direct ways.

“you don’t mean that,” his voice turns husky. a real deep tone he only uses when he needs something out of a woman. toji’s veiny hand moves to the side of your thigh, slowly crawling up your skin while he gauges your reaction.

he’s never attempted distracting you in a sexual manner. perhaps now is the perfect moment to try out if it works.

your breath hitches as you feel his touch on your bare thigh. such a warm touch. you’re not going to act like toji hasn’t been attractive to you all this time. his cocky attitude is annoying, yes, but the nonchalance is also a huge turn on.

you’re in a daze. your rational mind is screaming at you to kick that man to the curb—to let him suffer the consequences of his actions—but you’re weak. you’ve sworn never to get involved with him intimately. you wouldn’t want to sleep with an asshole like him.

“do not,” your voice is shaky, revealing the truth behind your contradicting words. you can’t resist him and you’re slowly realising it. you don’t want to end up as all the other women toji’s charmed with his words and actions. you promised yourself that you wouldn’t fall for him.

and yet here you are.

“i can repay you in a different way, y’know?” toji hums, his other hand landing on your left thigh. he rubs your plush flesh up and down in a slow manner. his eyes watch yours intently. you’re nervous and it’s painfully obvious to him. he suppresses a victorious grin, “y’ sure you don’t wanna, princess?”

you’re as weak as they come. toji’s toying with you and you’re allowing it. you’re no different than those women he fucks every other day when he needs something from them. be it money or just stress relief.

you tremble as you feel his fingers graze against the insides of your thighs.

“i take the silence as a yes, hm?” toji chuckles haughtily. he cups the back of your thighs, just below your ass, pushing your body closer to his. you’re standing between his legs and his head is close to your chest. he looks up at you, “use y��r words f’me, pretty thing.”

your brain stops working. you’re so easy. all toji has to do is call you by those alluring names and you’re all his. his callused fingers stop at the hem of your shorts. they continue to sensually rub the material, inching closer to your clothed cunt.

“say you want it,” toji whispers, his raspy voice making your knees weak. you want it, but you’re stubborn enough to deny your desires. you’re throbbing, aching and wet for him. your eyes catch a glimpse of the bulge in his grey sweatpants.

“no, i won’t,” you try to keep your dignity, however you’re slowly losing it. it’s inevitable. you’re putty in his hands. you let out a high pitched whine when toji ‘accidentally’ slides his fingertips back and forth over your clothed pussy, “mgh—okay, okay. fuck—i want you. need you.”

you blurt the words out before you can stop them from leaving your mouth. you silently curse at yourself. your bodily desires have fully taken over. you hold onto toji’s broad shoulders, your grip on them so tight that it sends a shiver down his spine.

he knew that you’d give in sooner or later. the dark-haired man watches as you lower your head, placing it in the crook of his neck to hide yourself from him. he coos condescendingly—

“mhm. tha’s more like it,” toji wastes no time to pull your shorts down to your ankles. he licks his lips, breathing heavily against your bare shoulder. he can’t wait to take this further. he groans the moment your wetness makes contact with his hand, “shiiittt, she’s fuckin’ wet. bet you dreamt about this.”

your panties are discarded on the floor not a second later. you whine in embarrassment, though still spread your legs. you feel ashamed because of how quickly you gave in to his charms. you thought you’d be different, but alas.

your roommate is one hell of a womaniser.

“y’ think i don’t see those lewd looks you give me?”toji clicks his tongue. his green irises are shining brightly. he enjoys the feeling of your sloppy cunt against his bare hand. his thick fingers rub between your folds, teasing your entrance, “nasty little girl. got me wanting to fuck you silly every single time.”

the desire has been mutual all this time. you’ve been driving toji crazy since day one. the way you think you’re being subtle when checking him out never fails to make him hard. or when you walk around the apartment in those skimpy clothes—those shorts that define your ass so well.

he’s sure that you are doing it all on purpose. not wearing a bra, staring at him for too long when he comes out of the shower with only a towel wrapped around his waist, sneaking glances at the outline of his fat cock. you’re not as clever as you think you are.

toji finally has you in his grasp and he’s not letting go. he’ll pound you to the mattress, until you’re satisfied and overstimulated.

he’ll get revenge for all those times you’ve (un)intentionally left him hard. all those times you left him sexually frustrated. all those times he had to resort to other things to relieve himself. all those times he had to waste his cum on his hands or on other women.

all those times he couldn’t fuck you—his pretty little roommate.

“you’re a pervert,” you whimper as you feel toji slip two fingers inside you without warning. his eyes nearly roll back from how tight you’re gripping his digits. it’s going to be so worth it once he’s got your pussy wrapped around his cock.

“yeah, but tha’s how you like ‘em,” toji laughs, not taking any offence to the accusation. he is a pervert when it comes to you and you secretly love it. the squelchy sounds echoing through the living space are all the evidence he needs, “no need to deny it. y’r cunt is doing all the talking for ya.”

you weakly punch his chest at his dirty words. he’s riling you up in both the best and worst ways possible. you moan and your hips shake from pleasure, feeling him curl his fingers up inside you. you hiccup and try to silence him, “shut up!”

toji loves seeing you deny your own feelings. it gives him so much power over you. he knows you’ll come back crawling to him when he’s done here.

after all, you’re stuck with him. literally. he’s not leaving this apartment any time soon. not when he’s got a cute roommate like you awaiting him whenever he comes back home.

soon enough, you end up in his bed. it smells like him. you’ve only imagined being in this situation. with him on top of you, between your legs, filling you to the brim with his cock. it’s huge—bigger than you thought it’d be. no wonder those other girls come back for more.

you can’t talk anymore. the only noises leaving your lips are moans—signs of the pleasurable sensations rushing through your body. your vision is blurry and all you can think of is this moment that you’ve waited for. to be dicked down by your roommate.

perhaps you’re the pervert here.

“bratty attitude nowhere to be found, heh,” toji snickers while his hips ram against yours. flop flop flop — it’s embarrassing how much noise your wet cunt is making. you’re dripping on his sheets while he’s splitting you open. he’s doing it so, so well. he grabs both your wrists with one hand and pins them above your head, giving you no chance to touch him.

toji pants as his thrusts increase in speed. he can’t keep his eyes away from you. you’re beautiful underneath him like this, on his bed, your body a piece of art he wishes to admire every single night. he smirks, “all you needed was some dick to shut that mouth of y’rs up, huh?”

you’re humiliated by how cheap you made yourself seem. you don’t respond to the man’s words and just wrap your legs around his waist, locking him in. toji grunts and slaps your thighs with his free hand, surprised by your actions, “fuck—didn’t know my roommate was such a slut in bed.”

your mouth hangs open. you’re sure you’re drooling by now. toji’s voice nearly becomes inaudible with how focused you are on the feeling of his cock. it’s hitting that right spot over and over again, the curve of his pink tip almost kissing your cervix.

“fffnghh, right there!” you moan loudly. you don’t care if the neighbours file noise complaints against you. they should’ve done so before, when toji had other women over. you remember how many times you had to put your earplugs in because your bastard of a roommate couldn’t keep it down.

the same bastard that’s fucking you so good right now. you can’t recall the amount of orgasms you’ve had already. toji didn’t even cum once and that’s only embarrassing you more. your inability to control yourself is pathetic. maybe not to toji though; he enjoys how easily he can make you spasm and squirt underneath him.

“i got’cha,” toji’s voice turns sweet for a split second once he sees how desperate you are for another mind blowing climax. if he knew you’d be this needy for him, he’d have taken you to bed long time ago.

“need you to say smthing f’me, ‘kay?” toji whispers and bites your earlobe, nibbling on it. his husky voice in your ear is like heaven. it makes you want to listen to whatever he has to say. you can hear the smirk in his voice when he increases his pace, “say that i don’t need to pay y’ back no more.”

you nearly choke on your own spit. toji is an asshole—manipulating your moment of weakness and vulnerability for his own benefit—and yet you allow him. you try to fight the urge to give in, but it’s too late.

“y-you don’t have to pay me back anymore,” you repeat with a whine and shake your head. it’s impossible to think rationally when you’ve got a fat dick all the way in your cunt, hitting all the right spots. your eyes roll back as you babble inaudible stuff in between moans, “promise, you don’t have to—mghhh!”

toji hisses at the feeling of you tightening up around him. you’re insatiable, wanting to continue until you’re able to milk every drop of cum out of his heavy balls. he’s never had a girl be so desperate for him. so dumb and easy.

“atta girl,” your roommate hums and moves his hands to lift your thighs. his inhuman pace only seems to increase with the change of positions. toji stares down at you from behind his black bangs, “no more whinin’ about money ‘n stuff, yeah?”

his gaze is a mix of pure lust and intimidation. you nod your head along to all he says, too cockdrunk to resist anything. you’re living the dream and you’re unwilling to ruin it, “y-yes, not gonna do it again.”

toji groans at the sound of your whiny voice. he’s going to make you addicted to him—that’s his ultimate goal. his hips slam against yours repeatedly, a slick trail of your fluids sticking to his pelvis, “shit, pussy’s sucking me in, princess.”

you can’t get enough of him and vice versa. the dark-haired man fails to keep his composure for a second, pushing his body weight on yours, caging you right against the mattress. he can’t stop his cock from throbbing each time it dives into your insides.

“gonna cum real deep in you,” toji grumbles. he’ll give you every drop, all the way into your womb. he’ll make you his woman for tonight and the many nights yet to come. if it’s left up to him, he’ll gladly fuck you like this every day, “be greedy ‘n take it all.”

you gasp and feel toji thrusting harder into your aching cunt. you didn’t think he’d be able to go faster. you mewl and scream about how good he feels, which only feeds toji’s big ego. he grips your thighs tightly, nails digging into the flesh.

“fuck!” white dots appear in your vision as you reach your peak once again. you feel like your heart stops beating for a second. you involuntarily start convulsing, legs shaking and hips bucking up to meet toji’s.

he hisses and closes his eyes, shooting his creamy load all the way inside of you. ropes of warm cum spurt out of his tip, filling your pussy like both of you have always imagined. he sighs and thrusts a couple more times, making sure no drop escapes your messy folds, “mhmmm, there we go, girl.”

you’re still dazed. you’re slack-jawed, your spit dripping down your chin. you’re more sleepy than ever. no one has made you feel this good in a while. toji watches you struggle to stay conscious and huffs proudly.

he rolls off you and lays down on his back, stretching his arms. he yawns—not bothering with aftercare at the moment. he’ll let you cool off first before he gets you a towel to clean up. toji tilts his head to the side and grins, “debt repaid.”

he’s said it so casually. you don’t notice what he’s implying until you’ve calmed down. your rationality comes back to you after a couple seconds, and when it does, your heart sinks to your stomach. your eyes widen as you recall what you’ve basically promised him.

you promised not to ask for the money he owes you ever again. oh, stupid you.

“wait—”

unfortunately for you, toji’s already snoring. his eyes are closed as he lays there like he hasn’t just rearranged your guts and manipulated you to say stuff you can’t take back. you scoff and rub your eyes, kicking your legs in frustration at your own naivety.

what a bastard.

[scarlet-star-witch]

The moon and his sun (Part VI)

Aemond Targaryen x female reader

Summary: People would remember their story. Even decades after they were gone, Septa’s would tell young children about the one-eyed dragon prince and his sweet wife as if they were a part of a fairytale, too good to be true for the harshness real life possessed.

Aemond meets a young girl who quickly becomes his most cherished friend and changes the course of history.

Word count: 6.7 K

Warnings: More angst, Aegon being the villain of all villains, lots of grief and sadness, but also fluff because they love each other so much

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 ... Part 7

~~

Things were different after that night. She was different. With each passing day Aemond saw less and less of the woman he knew and loved with every inch of his being. She was no longer that bright-eyed and sparkling girl he had known since his childhood.

Her lips no longer curled with mischief, her laughter no longer rang out in their chambers. Her hand no longer sought him out, she had no kisses to give him just for the sake of it. 

The space between them in their bed felt like a chasm that was too great for him to cross to get to her.

She spent her days curled up in bed, hugging the blankets tightly to her, refusing anyone who attempted to pry them away from her. The maids tip-toed around her, the gazes of pity stirring Aemond’s anger. 

She barely spoke a word, only giving weak-sounding excuses to refuse her meals, to refuse to get up and face the day. 

He didn’t blame her. If he could, he would be in that bed beside her all hours of the day, but his duties as a Prince didn’t stop because his heart had shattered. The thought of his lost child didn’t leave his mind as he sat in on meetings of war, it was all he thought of as he numbly walked the halls like a ghost. 

The empty chair next to him at every dinner spoke volumes and he didn’t know how many more nights he could endure the pitying looks from his mother. 

The guilt was drowning him. 

He knew the attack was revenge for what he had done to Lucerys Velaryon. He knew that man he had driven his sword into was following the orders of Rhaenyra and Daemon. He knew his wife had almost been murdered for his mistake.

He knew his child was dead because of him. 

He couldn’t stomach the thought. He felt untethered to himself, as if he were walking around without a soul. He couldn’t handle the grief, he couldn’t fathom the reality that played out around him. 

So he settled for anger. It was what he knew, it was familiar. 

The moment he would leave his wife’s side, the moment he stepped out of their chambers, the melancholy and the heartbreak would recede within him, his face hardening, his entire demeanor changing in an instant, portraying that of a cold, unflinching soldier rather than the mourning husband and lost father. 

The thought of his half sister and uncle made him see red, the dragon blood within him sizzling under his skin, igniting a fury so volatile it shadowed any ire he had felt for his bastard nephews. 

He sat in his mother’s chambers, staring blankly out the window, ignoring the politicking his mother and grandsire attempted to bring forth to Aegon who sat looking bored. Time passed unknowingly, his mind a million miles away - or just mere hallways away where his wife lay, a picture of a broken mother. 

“Aemond?”

He turned his attention to his mother who was eyeing him questioningly. He hummed absentmindedly and she sighed. 

“How is she?”

He clenched his jaw, his eyes falling to his feet, unable to speak a word of his wife’s condition. He would surely break down if he did and he refused to let his prick of a brother witness such a moment of weakness. 

Alicent sighed, failing yet again to engage her son in any semblance of conversation.

“Her maid told me she has refused to eat… again.” 

Aemond felt himself twitch, his anger sparking at the mention of his wife and the monumental grief she was lost in, that he had no way to help her through. 

He felt a sharp pain in his chest, the same pain he had been feeling for the past few days. He wondered each time if it were another piece of his heart cracking, shriveling away to nothing. He wondered when it would stop, when there would finally be nothing left of it. 

He pictured the scene he had walked into that night, the sight of that man over his wife, her below him, bloody and crying, so close to being taken from the world, taken from him.

It was a sight that had haunted his every waking thought since. 

It was a sight that had broken him beyond repair. 

It was a sight that left him bloodthirsty. 

Unable to stand the grief any longer, he succumbed to his burning anger, the thought of his uncle and half-sister leaving him to feel as though there was only one single thing he could do to release him from the fury that was all-consuming, sure enough to devour him at any moment.

He abruptly stood, causing his family to flinch and send curious stares his way. 

“Aemond?”

“I cannot sit here and let the attempt on my wife’s life and the loss of my child go unpunished any longer.”

He stomped towards the door, prompting his mother and grandsire to stand and quickly follow behind him, worry painting their features. Helaena shifted uncomfortably where she sat, the grief that surrounded her brother and dear friend shrouding her kind heart, clouding her usually sunny disposition. Even Aegon looked worried, his eyes flitting between his brother and his Hand with apprehension.

“It will not go unpunished, but we need a plan. We cannot blindly go forward with violence.” Otto scolded him impatiently.

Aemond smirked, the sight of a man who was beginning to lose it all.

“My uncle underestimates me. He will soon know better than to threaten what’s mine.” 

“Aemond, please.” Alicent pleaded desperately. “I know you’re hurting, but you cannot let your grief rule you, we need-”

“I need to end this. I started this and I paid for it with the life of my child.” Aemond seethed, his lone eye wide and becoming glassy, the lump in his throat growing as he thought of his babe he would never hold. 

Helaena felt her own eyes begin to well with tears as she watched her broken brother attempt to salvage what little control he felt he had. 

���Daemon will die for this and I won’t wait any longer for you to discuss allies and soldiers, to wait long enough to let him plan another attack that will take my wife from me. I will end it today. He doesn’t deserve to see another sunrise.”

He moved to the door once more, but his mother frantically latched onto his arm, pulling him back, her own tears falling down her cheeks.

“Please, think this through.”

“I have!” Aemond screamed, his heart racing, his hands trembling, his grief and anger overtaking every rational thought in his mind. 

His vision blurred and he abruptly turned away from his family, refusing to let them see him crumble. 

The room was silent, heavy with tension. 

“Vhagar is mighty, but she cannot take on Caraxes, Syrax, Meleys, even Vermax, alone and you will get yourself killed for nothing.” Otto added, causing Aemond to flinch as if he’d been struck.

It wasn’t for nothing. It was for his wife, for the child they lost, the son they would never get to hold.

“Aemond.” Helaena’s tearful voice spoke up. “She needs you.”

The words, so simple yet gut wrenching, were enough to snuff out his fury. The thought of his wife, the woman who was grieving just as he was and what would happen to her if he charged into battle. The thought of her losing someone else, knowing he would break her already fragile heart into a state of disrepair had his head spinning, the desire to rip his uncle limb from limb receding into the depths of his mind.

The only thing that mattered was her. 

He refused to cause her any more harm. 

He left the room without another word, keeping his head down as he quickly made his way to their chambers. 

His frayed nerves needed only one antidote, her. 

Stepping into their chambers, his heart jumped within his chest as he noticed the bed was empty. He panicked momentarily before he heard the soft voices of her maids. He stepped forward slowly, peeking his head into the next room where her maids surrounded her, their touches gentle as they helped her bathe. 

Aemond felt the ache return, as if a fist were clenched tightly around his heart, squeezing until it ceased to beat. 

Her eyes were dull, her face passive. His throat grew tight as he watched the maids lift her arm, the limp limb like a ragdoll, as if she were merely a corpse, a body functioning without its beautiful mind. 

It shattered him beyond repair to see her in this state. 

You did this, the tormenting voice in his head reminded him yet again. 

The guilt could’ve knocked him off his feet. 

Gritting his teeth, he turned away from the torturous sight before him and stormed out of the room, his quick, angered pace taking him out of the Red Keep. 

His breathing was heavy, his chest heaving with every step he took. 

Vhagar raised her head lazily as her rider approached. Her demeanor changed in an instant, shaking herself from her tiredness, her bonded’s fury and despair so loud, it was radiating off him in waves. She growled lowly, snarling as he approached.

Aemond had no words of comfort, nothing to say to calm his dragon. She felt what he felt, she was as thirsty for destruction as he was. 

He commanded Vhagar to fly, where he didn’t know. 

The frigid wind was like knives against his skin, the rope in his hands course and rough. He hadn’t bothered to wear his gloves or any of his proper attire for riding. He had been desperate to get out of that room, unable to face his wife for a second longer or his heart would’ve given out there and then. 

He just needed to get away from it all. Everywhere he looked there were reminders of what had happened that night, what he caused. 

To see his wife in such a state and to know it was because of him left him wondering how much longer he could live with it. He was certain it wouldn’t be too much longer, he almost welcomed it for he couldn’t live like this any more. 

Aemond rode far and fast, his legs aching, his back becoming sore, but it didn’t matter to him, it barely even registered. 

Noticing a small island on the horizon, Aemond pulled the reins, commanding Vhagar to descend. 

His heart raced, the lump in his throat close to choking him. 

“Vhagar…” He called out, his voice hoarse with emotion. “Dracarys!” 

His mighty dragon roared streams of fire, over and over as her rider commanded, his yelled commands becoming inaudible over the currents of fire she spewed. Aemond watched the trees burn, their flames growing into raging infernos. He commanded Vhagar to land and he numbly stumbled off her saddle, his grace gone in his state of despair. 

He stepped forward, his eye glowing orange with the flames before him. He felt the heat radiating from the blaze and took another step towards it. Behind him, Vhagar roared, as if in warning, as if she could sense the danger, sense the recklessness in her rider. 

A choked breath escaped his lips, his mind flashing with images of that dreaded night, his wife screaming in agony, her thighs dripping red with the loss of their child. He thought of the little boy he pictured all those times he would place his hand over the small bump that grew, imagining the child with eyes like his mother’s, his smile wide and deliriously happy like his mother’s. The memories were suffocating. 

You did this.

The words circled in his head until he broke. 

His eyes burned with tears and he gasped helplessly as they fell in a torrent down his cheeks. His legs felt weak under him and he stumbled, falling to his knees in the coarse grass below him. 

He cried and screamed until his throat hurt. He unleashed his fury and heartbreak in a flood of sobs he couldn’t control.

The flames before him crawled towards him, the heat before him that burned uncomfortably hot an unlikely comfort. He remained still as the fire raged closer and closer. 

Behind him, Vhagar roared, a sound so heartbreaking it mirrored her rider’s own all consuming anguish. 

Minutes, that felt like hours, passed until he had no tears left, his throat dry and aching, leaving him to stare blankly forward, the flames before him like a hypnotizing mirage, beckoning him forward, enticing him to end the pain once and for all. 

It wasn’t until the trees before him began to creak and wither, soon collapsing under the assault, wicked waves of embers and ash spraying towards him, the island he unleashed his fury on succumbing to his destruction, that he shook himself from his grief induced daze.

With a heavy breath, his eye heavy and hurting, he finally got to his feet slowly, making no haste to climb back atop Vhagar who seemed to rumble in discontent below him, as if to chastise him for his recklessness. 

As he flew back to King’s Landing, he felt no lighter, no great catharsis that lifted the weight on his chest. His heart still felt as though it would break with each breath.  

He just hoped he could survive another agonizing day.

~~

The days dragged on and he was left to face his wife’s absence once again, his head down as he ate, desperate to get the meal over with as quickly as he could and get back to their chambers to be with her. 

At the head of the table, Otto cleared his throat and Aemond wondered how such a miniscule sound could still hold authority. He looked up with barely contained disdain and he met the surly eyes of his grandsire. 

“I think it is time we discuss our next steps.” 

“Father.” Alicent admonished wearily. “Now is not the time.”

Aemond’s eye narrowed, it was all too obvious they had been conspiring without him. 

“Clearly you have something to say, so say it.” Aemond barked out, his tone making Helaena flinch from where she sat across the table. 

The look of apprehension his mother sent to his grandsire didn’t go unnoticed, heightening his already tempestuous nerves. 

“It is apparent your wife’s grief is not permitting her to uphold her duties-”

Aemond didn’t need to hear anymore. He stood from his chair, letting it clatter to the floor from the force of his movements and didn’t spare a look back at his family as he made his way to the door, his body rigid with fury. 

Ignoring the cries of his mother to come back and his grandsire’s warning to not turn his back on them, he stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him. 

He knew his granside was not overly fond of his union, that he would rather he ally himself with that dastardly Baratheon girl or a plain girl from the Riverlands. He knew it was all to help Aegon’s cause and he couldn’t care less. 

No one dared to make eye contact with the feared Prince as he stomped down the halls with an air of fury. He pictured his wife, the playful shove and sarcastic admonishment she would give him for his temper as the maids scurried out of his path in terror. 

The thought of her, of the person she no longer was, of what was ripped away from them so viciously only made his blood boil hotter. 

His entire body was locked with tension as he stormed into their chambers. He leaned against the closed door, his eye falling closed as he breathed deeply in an effort to regain any ounce of calmness he could reach. 

“Hi.”

Her soft voice startled him, his eyes springing open, searching frantically among the room until he landed on her curled up form on the couch by the hearth. 

His lips parted in surprise, hope swelling within him at the sight of her out of that bed, washing away every bit of his anger in an instant.  

“Hi.” He breathed out, approaching slowly, gauging her reaction as he took a seat next to her, making sure to leave a respectable amount of space between them, as if they were a pair of innocent children, having to put on airs for the court. 

“I assume dinner did not go well.”

Aemond let out a low sound, too exhausted and mentally drained to laugh as he slumped, no longer the picture of the perfectly put together Targaryen Prince. He ran a hand over his tired face. 

“You are familiar with my family. I’m surprised you had any positive expectations.” 

Her lips quirked upwards slightly, more of a barely perceptible twitch of her lips, in a pathetic attempt to convey some semblance of amusement. She couldn’t muster much more in her state. 

Aemond watched her intently, noticing the signs of exhaustion, the way she curled up into herself, her eyes dull and marked with dark circles. It hurt him deeply to see her in this state, but he couldn’t deny the relief he felt at the mere fact that she was no longer hiding beneath her sheets.  

“You.. you’re out of bed.” He remarked quietly. 

She looked over at him, slightly surprised by his words. She wrapped her arms around herself and leaned back deeper into the couch she lay on, as if she could make herself smaller. 

“It felt like…” She started slowly, trying to find the words to describe the grief that was overtaking her. “Like a fog had finally lifted, like I could finally control my own body again.”

Aemond nodded slowly, the ache within him only growing more prominent at her words. He reached out, taking her hand in his, his thumb gently caressing the bandage she still wore. He winced slightly at the sight of it, the reminder of that night, of how he had almost lost her and the pain she had been in stirring his devastation yet again. 

“Did you eat?” 

She clammed up at his question, her eyes quickly casting down to the floor, refusing to look his way.

“I’m not hungry.” She responded monotonously, the response becoming all too familiar to him. 

Aemond sighed, pushing past his disappointment, choosing to focus on the relief he felt that she had even gotten out of bed. He’d take whatever progress came, no matter how slow. 

The pair of them were left in silence, a tense air around them that had never existed between them before. 

She shifted in her spot, hating what they had come to, hating her mind for forcing her to relive her loss over and over, keeping her in this black hole of misery she couldn’t claw her way out of. 

As the minutes passed in a dreadful silence, she finally reached her breaking point, her disdain for the state of their marriage for once overtaking her grief.

“Can you read to me… like you used to?” She asked, her voice sounding slightly raspy from disuse. 

Aemond looked shocked by her question, but the light that reached his eye was unmistakable, twisting her stomach for the first time in weeks in ways that didn’t signal trauma. The fluttering of nervous butterflies at the sight of him made her feel like she was a child again.

He nodded eagerly and reached for the book that lay on the table beside him, the book he’d been leafing through at night when he couldn’t find sleep, when the guilt became overwhelming that he couldn’t bring himself to lay next to her. 

He began to read, stealing occasional looks to her, a hint of a smile playing at his lips as their eyes met each time. 

With each passing second, the tension between them slowly abated, leaving the tranquil ease they were used to. 

Both of them couldn’t help but think back to how their friendship started, of their days together in the library, the hours she spent listening to Aemond read, the beginning of everything. 

She smiled lightly, focusing on the beautiful sound of her husband’s voice. She let her body relax, unclenching each limb that was wrought with stiffness. She shifted, stretching her legs out on the couch, Aemond reflexively moving his book to bring her feet to rest in his lap, laying his other hand over her legs as he had done a thousand times before, reminiscent of late nights reading by the fire after hours of lovemaking. 

She smiled and let her head fall back on the pillow behind her, closing her eyes in contentment, letting Aemond’s voice relax her into a state of calm she didn’t think she’d ever feel again.

Slowly, the weight on their shoulders lifted, piece by piece, replacing their soul-crushing hurt with a relative ease, the despair and grief dissipating. It was still there, they both knew they wouldn’t soon forget the thought of their child, but it didn’t feel as strangling as before. 

It took time, but she was able to spend more days out of bed, beginning to eat little bites of the food Aemond had brought her, her heart feeling lighter at the sight of his relieved smile with every bite she took. 

She would have her moments, when the grief became all consuming once again and she would hate the world for what it took from her, but he would be there every time to embrace her tightly and wipe her tears, to tuck her into their bed and hold her in his arms until she calmed. 

“I think of him every second of the day.” She whispered into the darkness, the tightening of Aemond’s arms around her the only indication that he had heard her words. 

They didn’t speak much about their child, but it was clear to both of them the loss was never far from their minds. Aemond held her differently, more gently, as if he feared she would crack like porcelain if his touch was anything more than feather-light. 

“I do too.” He admitted quietly, his voice strained from the emotions that threatened to break him at the thought of their child. His hand smoothed down the front of her nightgown, resting on her stomach that no longer grew with the life of their babe. 

A shuddering breath escaped her, the noise prompting Aemond to pull her in closer to him, his lips pressing to her cheek in a gentle show of affection, one she needed desperately. 

“I’m sorry.” She whispered tearfully. 

Aemond turned her over so she was facing him, his hand resting on her cheek, his thumb discreetly wiping the tears that had snuck out of the corner of her eye.

“You do not ever need to apologize to me.” He assured her softly, his nose brushing against hers as he regarded her carefully, the sight of her sadness stirring his determination to remind her of what she meant to him, how deeply his love for her ran.

“This is my fault.”

Aemond’s whispered words crashed over her like a wave. Her eyes met his, the sadness reflected in his own mirroring hers, revealing how much they were both struggling, adrift in the sea of grief without a paddle.

“You didn’t do this.” She told him, her voice weak with emotion. “You love our son. I would never doubt that.” 

His face twisted, taking a monumental effort not to crumble into tears. She could tell him a million times, but he wouldn’t believe it. He knew what he was, he knew what he did, and nothing would change it.

All he could do was try to live with it. 

He tightened his grip on her, moving in closer so there was no inch of his body that wasn’t pressed against hers. He needed her comfort, her closeness, to remind himself there was something worth living for. 

He leaned in, kissing her more softly than he could ever recall, their first proper kiss in weeks. 

“You mean more to me than anything in this world.” He kissed her again, just as gentle as before. “I would be nothing without you.” 

His whispered words made her eyes sting again, though this time for a much different reason. She felt as thought the deep cracks in her heart were beginning to heal, slowly coming back together to be whole again, to love again. 

Despite the grief they still felt so strongly, they came back to each other, finding solace in their shared tears and memories of what they had envisioned for their future. 

But it couldn’t last forever.

They were curled up on the couch together one afternoon when a knock sounded at their door. She tensed immediately, causing Aemond to tighten his hold on her as he called for the person to enter. 

A guard entered their room and bowed respectfully. 

“My Prince, Princess. King Aegon has sent for both of you to meet him in the council chambers.” 

Aemond tensed, his gaze narrowing as he sat up straighter. 

“Both of us?”

“That is what the King has ordered.”

They shared looks of uncertainty, her fear growing greater than his at the prospect of facing his family for the first time since the incident. She’d seen Helaena of course, her sweet friend had been by her side, brightening her day for the past week once she’d been accepting of visitors again. 

But she had yet to see Alicent and the thought of coming face to face with Otto and Aegon had her ready to jump back into her bed, pull the sheets over her head and pretend the outside world didn’t exist. 

But she had a duty to perform. She couldn’t very well refuse the King, especially not when he was a drunken beast with the temperament of a spoiled toddler. 

She smoothed her hair out in an attempt to look more presentable and took Aemond’s arm, the two of them walking slowly, their bodies tense, pits of dread in their stomachs, as if they were headed to the executioner’s block. 

They arrived at the council chambers much too quickly. She kept her head down as they entered, but the sound of the Dowager Queen’s voice quickly had her raising her gaze to attention.

“Why is she here?”

She first met her good mother’s look of contempt before shifting to land on Aegon’s lecherous smile and her stomach twisted. 

“I invited her here, mother. This concerns her too.”

Aemond looked between his mother and brother incredulously, a sinking feeling growing within him, suddenly dreading having ever left their chambers. 

“What is the meaning of this?” 

“Take a seat, we have much to discuss.” Aegon said, all too cheerfully. Across the table, the Hand sighed heavily, sending a snide look to his grandson for his lack of decorum.

“There are still arrangements to be made for House Tully.” Otto began vaguely, his eyes shifting from Aemond to his wife at his side, mentally preparing himself for the fight that was soon to break out. 

“These arrangements concern me?” Aemond asked, his tone already one of hostility. 

Alicent cleared her throat and sat up straighter in her seat, her gaze focused solely on her hands, refusing to meet the gaze of her son.

“With Daeron’s marriage agreement securing Storm’s End as our ally, that leaves House Tully to be discussed.”

Aemond’s brows furrowed, his heart picking up its pace, his mother’s refusal to look him in the eye setting his nerves alight. 

Aegon rolled his eyes at the delicate nature of the meeting that was taking far too long for his liking. 

“You will be betrothed to a Tully daughter, securing their alliance to our side.” Aegon blurted out quickly, ignoring the looks of indignation from his mother and gransire. 

Aemond’s face darkened, a sarcastic sounding laugh escaping him, the sound making the hairs on the back of Alicent’s neck stand at attention, for it was a sound far colder than she had ever heard from her son.

“I know you’ve been lost in your cups for years, brother, but surely you remember that I married many moons ago.” 

The bitter tone to his voice put everyone on edge. 

“Yes, but your wife has been unable to give you a son, a valid enough reason for an annulment, I’d say.” 

He didn’t know what pissed him off more, Aegon’s words or the ease with which he had said them, as if it was a decision easily made. Aemond grit his teeth, his deadly glare locked steadily on his brother, a thousand and one threats to his life on the tip of his tongue. 

To have their loss thrown into their faces so callously had him seeing red.

But it was the soft hand that brushed over his, desperately seeking comfort, that held him back. He turned to his wife, the brimming tears of defeat in her eyes and the despair in her expression made him want to scream.

She couldn’t possibly think he was going to let this happen.

He turned to Otto, his gaze flaring with anger. 

“This is ridiculous, he cannot do this.”

“It is a valid reason.” 

Aemond stormed to his feet, the abrupt action causing the guards at the door to put their hands on their swords, threatening him before he could make a move to end the lives of anyone who dared to threaten his marriage. 

He seethed, sending a deadly glare to the guards before turning his attention to his mother who sat silently, picking at her nails anxiously.

“Mother?” He asked, fury coursing through him again when she refused to meet his eye. 

“You would not be forced from her. Many men take mistresses.” 

A choked breath escaped him, his gaze laced with betrayal, his mother’s words like a slap across the face. 

“Exactly!” Aegon agreed, all too happy with the turn of events. “Your marriage was already a sham. He was bedding her long before they were betrothed.” 

Aemond’s lone eye glared daggers at his brother. He could feel the burning gazes of shame from his mother and grandsire and he couldn’t find it in himself to look their way.

“Not to worry, brother, I could easily keep your whore here with us. Aegon the Conqueror had two wives, maybe I’ll follow in his footsteps and take your sweet wife as my own.”

The smile he sent her made her stomach turn. She would die before she let Aegon touch her.

“I don’t mind sharing her.” Aegon smirked, the sight nausea inducing.

His wife’s hand on his arm was the only thing to stop Aemond from lunging forward to throttle his brother. He was trembling with rage, he had never felt this before, like every inch of him was unraveling, like the bare bones of him were alight with fire. 

He turned back to his mother, a sense of satisfaction coursing through him when he saw her flinch at the intensity of the fury in his gaze. 

“You cannot be serious.” He said, his voice dangerously quiet. “You cannot let him do this.”

“He is our King, I do not ‘let’ him do anything.” Alicent responded harshly. “You rushed into this marriage without considering our political position. We are at war and we need to do what we can to secure our allies. You have a duty to perform, Aemond.”

He couldn’t bear to hear another word and grabbed his wife's hand, hauling her up from her chair and storming out of the room, practically dragging her behind him as she struggled to keep up with his quick pace. 

Alicent sighed heavily as the door slammed behind them, burying her face in her hands. 

“Why would you summon her?”

“She deserved to hear what I have planned for her future.”

“You cannot truly be taking her to wife.” 

Aegon shrugged. “She’s pretty enough, I don’t see why I wouldn’t.”

Alicent’s disgust was clear in the sneer she sent her son. 

“Aemond will never agree to this.”

Otto leaned back in his chair, his mind returning to his first plan. 

“Perhaps it’s time we consider more… drastic options.” 

“What are you suggesting?” Alicent asked warily.

“Aemond will not budge so we must remove the obstacle in our way.”

The Dowager Queen felt a heavy weight settle on her chest that made it hard to breathe. Her son would never forgive her. 

“Surely there is another way.”

“We would not be in this predicament if you had done as I told you and stood your ground against this senseless marriage.” Otto sneered at his daughter. “Her death could have been avoided but it is too late now. We have no options left.”

Alicent kept her head bowed, silently praying to the Gods for forgiveness and begging every higher power that Aemond would never find out her part to play in what would destroy him. 

Across the Keep, Aemond slammed the door to the chambers shut, breathing heavily as he leaned against the grand door for a few moments.

“Aemond?”

The sound of her voice, her sweet voice that always brought him comfort, was now only a reminder of the turmoil his family had put him in. 

He growled and slammed his fist against the door, over and over again until his knuckles bled.

“Stop!” She screamed, gripping onto his arm, wrenching him away from the door. “Have you gone mad?!” 

He was breathing heavily, fury thrumming through his veins, his entire body shaking as his mind went over his brother’s words over again until he saw nothing but red. 

“Fucking prick.” He seethed. “He wouldn’t even be on that throne if it weren’t for me. He’d be across the narrow sea, probably dead in some whore’s bed.” 

She stayed quiet, letting him rant, expelling his anger so he wouldn’t storm back into the council chambers and separate his brother’s head from his shoulders.

“I have done everything for them. I’ve been the dutiful Prince they wanted me to be and what do I get in return? They want to dismantle my entire life, they want to rip me away from the only good thing I have and for what? For a damned throne he didn’t even want!” 

His chest heaved, the image of him reminding her of Vhagar, a wild dragon ready to spit fire. 

“I’ll kill him.”

“Aemond, stop.” She finally stepped in, pulling at his arm, stopping him from moving towards the door. “You’re not going to kill your own brother.”

“I won’t let him touch you. He’ll be dead before he can even look at you.” He spoke frantically, his wild eye now staring at her deeply, as if he needed her to hear his promise, as if she didn’t already believe it.

She swallowed against the lump in her throat, the weight on her chest so heavy it was a wonder she could even breathe.

“I’ll talk to my mother. I won’t let this happen.”

Her brows furrowed. He had heard his mother, just as she had, she was in agreement with this heinous idea. 

“Aemond…” She trailed off, her mind a mess of thoughts, though there was one thing she desperately longed for. “I need to go home.”

He paused, his anxious pacing coming to a sudden stop as he looked at her, ready for her to smile, or to assure him he had heard her wrong. Surely she wasn’t thinking about splitting up, not while the war raged, not when his family was trying to sink their claws into them.

“What?”

“I need to go back to Ixtal.”

“You want to leave? You… you’re leaving me?” Aemond choked out slowly, the tightening of his chest leaving him breathless.

“I don’t want to leave you, that’s the last thing I want, but I cannot stay here.” She spoke tearfully. “It’s been too long since I’ve heard from my parents. I know our letters are being intercepted, they would never let this much time go by without checking in on me. I don’t think they even know I lost the baby, I-I have to see them.”

Her pleas fell on deaf ears. All Aemond could comprehend was that she wanted to leave. The only thing he could grasp in his already tumultuous state was that he was losing her. He felt like his entire world was shattering in front of him.

“You can’t do this to me.” He choked out. 

Her eyes softened, her heart aching to hear him sound so weak.

“Aemond, I-”

“You aren’t leaving.” He spoke lowly, his voice betraying how scared he truly felt. 

She stepped towards him, reaching out to him but he quickly flinched back, his hard gaze landing on her, making her frown deeply, her stomach dropping. He had never once looked at her like that, as if she were the one betraying him.

“Aemond, I’m not safe here.” She told him, her voice weak, portraying just how exhausted she was. “Your family seeks to tear us apart-”

“And you’re making it much easier for them!” Aemond yelled. “You are not leaving and that’s final.”

She scoffed, he had never once spoken to her like this, he had never even raised his voice to her and it had her frustration rising, taking over any ounce of fear that had been plaguing her just seconds ago. 

“So you’re going to keep me prisoner? Lock me in our chambers until I comply? Or until I’m forced to watch you marry and bed another woman?”

Aemond’s eye blazed with fury at the mention of his family’s heinous plan. A plan he had no intention of ever complying with.

He grit his teeth, his mind a mess of thoughts that only seemed to infuriate him and spiral him into a pit of fire and gnashing teeth. 

He turned on his heel and pulled the door open with such a force, it was a miracle it stayed on its hinges.

“Where are you going?” She called out, but received no answer. The slamming of the door echoing in the room that felt more empty than ever before. 

Her lip quivered, her emotions coming to a head, their bleak looking future leaving the desire to scream out until she ran out of breath. She didn’t know the lengths his family would go to supplant her. 

She only knew it brought her fear to imagine what their ire would mean for her.

She was left to stew in her devastating thoughts for hours, Aemond’s absence from her side a glaring reminder of how truly alone she felt. Since her father had left, since this war had started, she scarcely recognized the place she had grown, the place she had fallen in love, the place that had been filled with so much laughter and delight. 

It seemed like it had all been a dream, a fantasy she had created for herself. 

She barely recognized her own husband anymore. 

As night crept on the Keep, as she refused her dinner once again, she crawled into her bed, pulling the sheets high around her, the racing of her heart not having calmed since the meeting, since she began to fear her marriage being forced from her. 

The thought was too much to fathom. She couldn’t stay there and watch as Aemond married someone else. She couldn’t watch as the woman’s stomach swelled with his child. 

The thought made her sick. 

No matter how much Aemond would sink his heels in and stand against it, it was still the King’s order. He couldn’t deny it forever. The second he would be parted from her side, forced to fight in this war, she was sure his family would take action, rip her out of their shared chambers, probably throw her in the dungeons so she wouldn’t cause any trouble and ruin their plans. 

She longed for her home, to be with her family again, wrapped in their warm, safe embrace. 

As their chamber door opened, Aemond finally returned, she closed her eyes and settled her breathing, pretending to sleep to avoid the inevitable tension still locked between them.

She’d had enough conflict for the day, perhaps her entire life. 

She remained still as she listened to him shed himself of his clothes and she tried with all her might not to cry as there was no dip of the bed beside her, as she heard him settle on the couch for the night. 

~~

Well... I can only apologize

I promise this story has a happy ending xx

~~

Tag list:

@jacaeryslover @allsouls-emma @lianna75 @emoxio @noneedtosearch @watashiwasun @guacam011y @darlingisntit @trickycarrot89-blog @stcrrjoon @knyam @bettysexile @marysucks-blog @lovelyteenagebeard   @darktrashsouldbear @violetiss3lfish @hueanhdang @mamawiggers1980 @azaleapotterblack @littlestarfighter03 @discofairysworld @ner-dee @kananenmus @summer-and-sunflowers @booksandbud4me @blackravena @pinkautismjournal @aleemendoza2425-blog @callsigncrushx @taylordaughter @baby-i-can-see-your-reylo @tanyaherondale @uhnanix

So sorry if I forgot to tag you xx

[innocent-artery]

You Snooze You Lose

3.9k words

Summary: you're just about to give up on the dating scene altogether, so who better than your neighbor friend to show you how good dates usually end? can you tell this is my favorite trope

Pairing: Eddie Munson x reader (can be interpreted as older!Eddie)

For the sake of avoiding spoilers, extensive warnings will not be given. This story includes sexually explicit material, reader discretion advised.

While reading, I recommend listening to the altar is my hips, a spotify playlist by me!

~

Your head fell back against the car, inhaling deeply and heaving a long sigh that devolved into something of a groan. Your social battery was impossibly drained.

You had just come from another pitiful excuse of a date, someone from work that a mutual friend had set you up with. It wasn't a total disaster, but it didn't leave you with butterflies either. But you were home now, so you could forget about the experience for the timebeing.

A voice calling your name pulled you from your thoughts. It was one you recognized immediately as your next door neighbor, Eddie. When your eyes located him you saw him sauntering out of his open garage towards your driveway, beer in one hand and jean pocket over the other. His chunky boots set in stone his walk, so casual and powerful, and oh god he's right in front of you now.

"You must be doing some serious thinking out here," Eddie chuckled, leaning on your car opposite you. "Either that or there's more to that tree than meets the eye because you've been staring at it for the last five minutes."

You chuckled back at him. "You've been watching me?"

"With a face like that, it'd be a crime not to."

There it was again. That little game you and Eddie played. Even from your first day in the neighborhood Eddie welcomed you with his abrasive charm and an open invitation to his services on a car. Which he seemed to exercise often- his garage door was often open during the afternoons, blasting music as he sat under his car doing god knows what. He never failed to wave and wink at you as you pulled into the driveway every day as you came home from work.

As you became more accustomed to him, your friendship evolved into frequent Friday night hangouts, sitting on the ground in the living room with a six pack talking about anything and everything.

You hated to admit it, but it didn't take long for your cheeks and ears to start to get embarrassingly red in front of Eddie, especially when your conversation topics became more, well, intimate. Whether or not he'd picked up on it, you didn't know- nothing had ever come of your little crush; you'd been content to leave that between you and your vibrator.

"Kid? Y'alright?"

There you go again. You shook your head, blinking a few times before shooting him an apologetic smile.

"Yeah, sorry."

"You seem a bit on edge. Wanna talk about it?"

You shrug. "It's nothing, really. Just got home from a date."

"Assuming it didn't go well?"

"It wasn't bad, it just- I don't know, it felt forced."

Eddie hummed, nodding lightly. "I hear ya. Tell y'what, take ten to get settled and let me clean up, then come over, we'll break out a couple of bottles and you can tell me all about it, yeah?"

"Sounds great," you agreed, and Eddie gave you a playful salute before sauntering back to his own driveway- which you may or may not have watched for a little too long.

Once you'd changed into more casual attire, you took the short walk down the street to Eddie's house. By this time, the sun was half set, and his garage had been shut, the only evidence that someone was home being the lights on in the kitchen.

"There you are. Was starting to worry," Eddie grinned at you as soon as the door swung open. You noted a flash of silver behind his teeth as his tongue swiped against his side teeth, and the tickling in your lower gut a moment later.

"Aw, you worry about me?"

“All the time, sweetheart,” the man flashed a grin, stepping aside to welcome you inside. "So, what's gotcha down?"

You heaved a groan, plopping onto his couch. "It's such a long story, I'm not even sure I have it in me to tell the whole thing. But he treated me like one of the guys. I mean, I want us to be friends too, but..." you clicked your tongue and sighed, words escaping you.

Meanwhile Eddie just watched you, arm slung over the back cushion across from you on the other side of the L of the couch. His beer bottle rested on his knee, balanced by his hand. "You wanted to be romanced."

"Yeah, I guess so. He didn't even make sure I got to my car safely."

Eddie's eyed widened, head cocking in disbelief. "Are you kidding?" When you shook your head no, he flung his hands in the air. "That's not even romantic! I do that for my friend's kids I drive around because I don't want them getting kidnapped!"

"I know, I know. That's not even the worst part."

Eddie scoffed. "What could possibly be worse?"

"Let's just say I know more about his bowel happenings than I would like to."

Eddie wrinkled his nose, sucked in a breath through his teeth. "Yeah, y'know princess, I get the feeling he's not your soulmate." He set his bottle down with a clink on the wood, running his hands up his thighs. "Man, even I could do better."

Something in your stomach turned over at the thought. Eddie seemed to notice your change in demeanor, however slight, and set his bottle down.

"Could you?"

Although it was after a few long, heavy seconds, the words escaped you faster than your brain could process them. Eddie's eyebrows twitched in something mixing amusement and bewilderment.

"I could," he mused. You swore that when he shifted his legs opened a little bit wider. "'Least your night wouldn't end complaining to a friend over a beer."

"Oh yeah? How would my night have ended?"

Eddie cocked a brow, lips curling.

You tilted your head to the side, eyeing him. Another long, heavy moment settled between you two, where you sat staring at one another.

Then your mouth moved of its own accord.

"Show me."

Slowly, so slowly, Eddie stood. sauntered over to where you sat. He watched you like a hawk, mischievous eyes captivating yours. A single, calloused hand reached out to your jaw, tilting it up a bit so that you were facing him. Eddie's mouth quirked up at the new sight.

"Y'want me to show you how your night should've ended, princess?" He crooned. You nodded dumbly, earning another chuckle. "Show you how you deserve to be treated, hm?"

Before you could give a response, Eddie's mouth was on yours, slow and deliberate and relaxed, seeming to simultaneously pull tension from your bones and set your skin on fire. Your fingers reached for his jacket, tugging him closer. Eddie gripped the couch back behind you to hold his weight, other hand coming to cup the back of your neck, slinking into your hair. His thumb rested on your pulse, smirking a little when he felt it racing.

"Pretty thing," he murmured in between hot kisses, "are you sure about this?"

"So sure, Eddie, please," you breathed, tugging his jacket off; the leather was cool to the touch, nice on your searing fingertips.

You could feel his mouth quirk up at your desperation. The hand that held the couch came down to your legs, lighting fire in their wake and finding the crook under your knee, tugging outwards. Heat brewed in your core at the implication- fueled even more so when Eddie pulled back with a grunt to tug his jacket away. Your eyes seemed to be locked in on his, somehow darker and lit with something primal. His kiss-bitten lips hung open in a lazy grin.

"C'mere, pretty." Eddie's hands grip your thighs with a searing mix of worship and need, pulling them apart and tugging you towards the end of the couch by the crooks under your knees. You let out a squeak, breaking quickly into a stifled hum of pleasure as his mouth found and made quick work of your neck, kissing and nipping and licking with that damn ball of metal down the front of your throat, hands splaying over your thighs appreciatively all the while.

"Eddie," your voice had risen into a near whine, but you couldn't bring yourself to care. All thoughts were clouded with his storm- his breath fanning your jaw, warmth radiating onto your body, almost chest to chest, hands teasing dangerously high.

"Hm?"

"Please, please Eddie..." you weren't sure what you were asking for, really, you just knew you wanted more of him. However he would give himself to you you would gladly take.

"Please what? Y'know I'm all yours, honey, I'll give you everything you want and then some but I can't help you if I don't know what that is."

"More," you huffed, reaching for his wrists.

"More?" Eddie teased; the condescending lilt in his tone was overwhelmingly obvious, but in your frenzied state you only nodded limply. Your hand tugged at his, and he followed your lead as you dragged his hand towards your neck, pressing at the back of his hand to indicate what you wanted him to do.

"Oh? Princess likes choking, huh?" The excitement in Eddie's voice was hardly containable, but he managed to play it off cooler than how he really felt- like a dog who just heard dinner being poured into his bowl. "That is interesting."

Eddie's grip on your neck wasn't really that strong, but it made your head spin nonetheless, eliciting a weak, content noise from you.

"There we go, fuckin' love hearing that." Eddie gave a kiss to your cheek, his other hand occupied with sending shock waves down to your gut as his fingers walked up the back of your leg. "What else does princess want, hm?"

You only let out a whine, too engrossed with the building, unbearable heat in between your legs, which, at the sound of his nickname, twitched further open.

Lucky for you, Eddie picked up on that immediately. "Aw, sweet thing, shoulda told me." He tuts, moving both hands under you and rearranging the two of you so that your crotch was hovering over his thigh, other leg hooking onto yours so that you were spread open for him.

"Here we go honey, y'wanna use my leg, hm? Get yourself off?" His words were muffled by the skin of your shoulder.

Realistically you knew you wouldn't be able to orgasm from dry humping his thigh alone, but God you were so eager for friction you were willing to try. You whimpered an 'mhm', setting yourself down on his leg- even that small touch made you gasp. Eddie's hands reached for your ass, helping you grind down onto him, nearly knocking the breath out of you when the contact you so desperately craved turned into a wildfire of need.

"That's it, sweetheart, keep going. 'S'it feel good? Yeah?" He mimicked your whimper of response, proud grin never faltering, even as he nipped at your jaw. His hands, firm, surprisingly gentle for how rough and calloused they felt, traveled from your ass to your waist, fingertips slinking under the hem of your shirt.

"Can we take this off, princess? Want to see you, pretty please let me see you." His voice was low and sultry and had goosebumps rising on your back. You whined an 'mhm', the thought of what he was going to do when you were topless spurring you to pull it over your head yourself.

Once your chest was bared to him, Eddie's hands, trailing lightly enough to tickle, found your poor, sensitive nipples, thumbs brushing over them enough to make you jolt, gasping in surprise.

"Eddie, Eddie- fuck, more, need more, please," you cried, hand flying to his hair when his head dipped to lick over your chest. Whether it was to tug him away or keep him there, you didn't know.

"Aw, I know, you're just insatiable, aren't you?" Eddie gave you his best faux sympathetic voice, and for a minute you actually thought he might feel sorry for you, like it wasn't his plan all along to get you worked up like this.

Eddie's hands worked under your legs, pulling you closer to him before hoisting you up, stomping somewhere in the house you'd only visited a handful of times and never under this circumstance- his bedroom.

It was a dimly lit room, smelling faintly of weed, but you weren't given much time to take in the sights because Eddie plopped you down on his bed, immediately towering over you, caging you in with his arms. His curls tickled your face, then your neck when he moved there. A few sloppy kisses quickly turned heated again when his leg wedged itself between yours. You took the opportunity, however fleeting, to rut yourself against the material.

But this time Eddie gripped your hips, pinning you down. "Patience honey, I'm getting there." The glint of warning in his eyes had you nearly shaking in excitement. A glimmer inside of you wondered what he'd be like if you ignored his warnings.

Eddie slithered down, slowly, kissing his way down to your navel. You willed your hips to stay down, not to lean into his touch, but they did anyway. Your eyes fell shut, head falling back and fingers finding the pillow for something to weakly grip onto.

But a tap on your hipbone snapped them open, looking down at a pair of big brown eyes staring up at you, hovering over your cunt. Knowing what he was asking, you responded with lifting your hips, making it easy for Eddie to slip your bottoms down Your phone nearly fell out of your back pocket from the force with which he flung them, as if he detested the fabric for its audacity to cover you up.

"Good, doing so good." Eddie gave your thighs a squeeze, smiling up at you with something a little kinder, more endearing than the smirk he'd donned the whole evening. With another squeeze, his head dipped down close to your clothed cunt. You swore you could hear him inhale, but your train of thought was halted when Eddie licked a fat stripe up the front of your underwear, sending shocks to your already hypersensitive clit.

"God- fuck!" You tried to clap a hand over your mouth, but Eddie tugged it away as quickly as it came.

"Y'doin' alright, princess? You seem a little tense." Eddie's teasing lilt came from somewhere under you, you could see the grin even through closed eyes. You opened them anyways. His smile was turned into something more playful, a glimpse of the boyish humor he always charmed you with. His head leaned against your thigh like a puppy, pouting up at you with false concern.

"Wonder fuckin' why," you gritted through your teeth, throwing your head back in exasperation.

"Easy tiger," Eddie chuckled, fingers pulling your underwear down- this time you definitely heard an inhale. You heard him mutter something along the lines of "saving these for later."

Eddie's fingers were quick to find you again, thumbs brushing over the joint between your thighs and your pussy, as if he thought the action was soothing and not setting you on fire.

You let out a strangled sound. "Eddie, I swear, if you don't fucking touch me-"

"You'll what?" Eddie's brow raised. His gaze alone made any snide remark die on your tongue.

As if on cue, your phone, long forgotten on the edge of your bed, lit up with an incoming call.

"Well?" Eddie prompted. You reached for the phone, seeing the absolute last name you cared to see illuminating the screen. You gulped, a tinge of guilt seeping in.

"Ah, I think I know who it is." Eddie chuckled, forehead knocking into your thigh as he made a poor attempt to hide his thorough amusement. "Well? Y'gonna answer it?"

You paused, made a face. You didn't even want to talk to him, really.

Eddie barked out a laugh at your reaction. "Shame. He could've learned a thing or two."

You giggled, but it quickly turned into a loud moan as Eddie's tongue, followed by that damn metal ball in the middle, began teasing circles over your clit. Somehow you were both infinitely relieved and worked up even more. Your phone was long forgotten, flung a little too far as, somewhere in the back of your brain, you heard it clatter on the wooden floor. Not that you could be brought to care, not with the way Eddie's tongue felt tracing your weeping hole.

"Fuck, all this for me? Sweet thing, if I knew how good this pretty pussy was sooner." You wondered momentarily what the end of that sentence was, but with his lips around your clit you weren't too worried. Ceaseless and electric his mouth was, bringing you slowly but surely towards that high you'd been chasing fervently for an hour now.

"Eddie, Eddie, I'm gonna- fuck! So good, Eddie, I'm gonna come, pleasepleaseplease-" You could barely understand yourself speak, so lost in your cloud of pleasure. But Eddie seemed to understand perfectly, cooing sweet praises into your cunt as he shook his head back and forth.

"Gonna cum, princess? Go on, you've earned it. Been so good, so patient f'me. Good, good, let go." He pulled both of your hands towards your lower stomach, interlacing them with his.

The noises you made as you unraveled under his marvelous touch were downright pornographic, downright sinful. One might be tempted to say you'd forgotten how to blush, but the heat in your cheeks would have shot down the theory. Waves of pleasure crashed over you, pulling pure electric heat from your sex as you writhed and shivered from Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.

But when the pleasure subsided into jolts, Eddie didn't stop. His tongue continued tracing your clit languidly, and- oh- a new sensation at your core had you squeezing his hands.

"Eddie, ohmygod-" Quickly you realized what he was doing, one finger prodding around your entrance before sinking into your embarrassingly wet cunt, which welcomed him. Your back arched when his finger curled, a guttural sound ripping from your throat as he pushed deeper, searching for that spot, the one that would ensure a noise complaint from a few neighbors.

"Shh, you're okay, you're doing so well, hm? So well, yeah, relax- just like that." Eddie hummed, another finger joining the first and a high-pitched moan from you following shortly after.

And then he found it. That damn spot deep in your gut, and he bullied it with his fingertips over and over and over again.

"Eddie!" His name fell from your mouth like a hymn, moans almost swallowed by the pillow you tugged to cover your face when the brief thought of the neighbors made you a slight bit guilty. Your second orgasm of the night was coming at you full steam ahead, much easier to find from your oversensitivity as well as the new sensation that joined his thumb swiping over your clit.

"That's it, princess, give me another. G'na get you nice and ready, yeah?" Ready for what, you had an idea that sparked, if possible, even more delicious heat in between your legs.

You were animalistic at this point, nearly screaming for him to make you come again. You almost sobbed when his fingers pulled out from you, hands reaching weakly for him.

"Easy, easy, I know. Gonna make it worth your wait, mm? You want my cock, sweet thing?"

Your mouth salivated at the mention, and you immediately propped up onto your elbows to watch him line himself up with you.

"Please, Eddie, please," you sighed, head lolling back.

And there it was, that delicious stretch that had your mind reeling and fingernails digging into Eddie's inked shoulders.

"Oh, oh oh, so good, so good, Eddie, right there!"

Your hands were grabbing for every bit of him you could find. Tugging his hair, scratching down his back, pulling his neck down into a searing, heavy-breath kiss.

"Fuck, princess, keep clenching and I won't last." Eddie grunted into your mouth. His hand, previously pressing onto your lower stomach, pulled your legs so that your ankles rested over his shoulders, bending down a little so that he could move deeper, and did it have you seeing stars.

"Keep- ah- keep going, please, 'm gonna cum, gonna- Eddie!"

Your cunt convulsed around Eddie's cock, throbbing inside of you as you felt white-hot release wash over you. You sobbed into Eddie's pillow, chanting his name as he overwhelmed you with praise. Eddie fucked you through it as best he could, but you could feel he was slowing down, spurts of wet heat in your gut moments later.

"Oh, baby... didn't know you could do that." Eddie was grinning like an idiot, incredulous grin staring down at his thighs. Dizzy, you looked down where he was staring like he just won the lottery.

His thighs were splattered with what you could only guess was your own arousal, even a few drops on his stomach.

"Oh my god," you flopped your head back, hand covering your eyes and trying to cover your embarrassed smile.

"Hey, that was hot." Eddie pulled your hand away, giving you that same sweet smile, squeezing your thigh before pulling himself out. You winced at the feeling, guilt following as you realized his sheets were definitely soiled.

You let out a long exhale, mind still racing. Eddie, having tucked himself into a new pair of pants, watched you. When he concludes you've had a moment to sit and think, he strokes your arm.

"Hey, cutie. You alright there?"

"Uh huh."

Eddie chuckled at the stupid smile you're sure you wore. "C'mon, gotta get you cleaned up."

"Yeah- sorry about your sheets."

Eddie pursed his lips, shrugged. "It was worth it, don't you think?" You attempted to stand, but Eddie held up a hand. "Allow me."

Eddie carried you into his bathroom, seating you carefully onto the toilet before excusing himself. He came back a moment later with your phone, wet wipes, and a glass of water.

You and Eddie fell into more casual conversation- the latter participant heavy on the cocky jokes- it was comforting. He'd offered you to stay the night; not like you hadn't conked out on his couch before anyways.

Brushing your teeth with your finger, you tapped your phone to check the time- and almost knocked it from the sink.

"FUCK." You nearly sprayed toothpaste foam all over Eddie's mirror, holding the phone inches from your face in case your vision had somehow failed you the first time.

"What, what what??" Eddie shouted from the shower, a bottle clattering on the tile shortly after.

You spat your foam out, coughing. You pulled the curtain open enough to push your phone into the shower to show him the time and name of your most recent call.

A pfft noise followed by loud cackling echoed off the tiles. "Oh shit! Y'think he got a show too, sure it wasn't FaceTime?"

Meanwhile you sunk your head into your hands in utter mortification.

Although a tiny part of you was laughing too.

~

[undreaming-fanfiction]

In honor of Easter...

Eddie Munson can't sleep. Maybe it was the almost expired can of spaghetti that he had for dinner, maybe it's the new campaign he's itching to plan, maybe it's being back in the Hawkins High with yet another fight for graduation he's bound to lose because his literature teacher was yet another victim of Danny Munson's petty crimes, and what better revenge than to repeatedly fail his son that Danny lost to social services ten years ago?

Or maybe it's the weird rustling under his window.

Now Eddie, he's a survivor. He runs, yes, but that's because there's nothing to protect. His honor? Oh please.

But if there's someone trying to break into the only real home he's ever known? That's different.

He grabs an empty beer bottle that he's been intending to throw out for a week or so and heroically - and stupidly - jumps out of his window. He expects to maybe land into a bush. Do a superhero landing or something.

What he doesn't expect is a pained wheeze and "what the fuck?!" yelled by his landing zone.

Eddie scrambles back to his feet and raises the bottle. Perhaps he should have broken it first to make it more threatening? He swings it against the trailer wall and it shatters almost completely, leaving him with a small ring of glass in hand.

The figure he landed on curses again and tries to scramble back on their feet.

Eddie raises the pitiful remains of the bottle. "Uh. Stop you...you scoundrel!" he threatens, except it doesn't sound like a threat, more like a plea. "Or I'll stab you with this..." he looks at the glass ring again, "...with this."

He hopes the intruder will flee. More likely, he's going to be jumped, punched and killed. But what Eddie absolutely does not expect is the town's pretty boy, Steve Harrington, dusting his knees and glaring at Eddie with hands on hips like a pissed off soccer mom. "Jesus Christ, Munson, are you trying to wake up the whole park?" he hisses.

Eddie suddenly feels very stupid. He lets go of the broken bottle and it lands in the dirt with a quiet clink. "Harrington? Uh...dude, I mean no disrespect and all, but why are you under my window?"

Steve's look could kill. "It's Easter tomorrow, what do you think I'm doing? Hiding eggs." He points to the basket full of eggs nearby.

It makes sense. Except it doesn't. Eddie pokes the eggs and they don't explode, so at least that's good. "Why on earth would you, Steve "the Hair" Harrington, be hiding eggs in a trailer park? Don't you have like, a fancy neighborhood to do this in? With Belgian chocolate eggs and champaigne for the bored moms and stuff like that?"

Steve sighs and runs fingers through his hair. Eddie notices with a pang of guilt that it's flattened where his foot landed. That's also a good moment to realize that he's only in his boxers and a t-shirt and barefoot.

But Steve doesn't seem to notice. He just vaguely gestures around. "Those neighborhoods have committees and stuff like that. And it's normal there. Look, I don't think local kids have a lot of good stuff going on. I know one of them, and she deserves to have one day like a normal kid, no worries, no thinking if her mom can afford it. So I'm preparing an egg hunt here. Or I was, before someone half-naked dropped on top of me and shattered a bottle over a pretty good hiding spot I found."

"Shit! Sorry!" Eddie immediately starts picking up the shards, or at least tries to in the dark. At least until a large hand grabs his own.

"Christ, Munson! Stop!" Steve hisses. "Do you want to cut yourself? I will just move the egg somewhere else and pick up the glass before it starts in the morning. And for fuck's sake, stop moving! Do you want to step on a shard?"

That finally calms Eddie down. He sighs and hangs his head down. "You know, Harrington, one might think you're a good dude. If one wasn't careful."

Steve nudges his side. "One should be careful. Now come on, I will give you a boost." When Eddie stares at him, he adds: "to your window. You want to go back to sleep, no?"

Eddie clears his throat. "Actually, I was thinking I'd love to grab my sneakers and help you, I know a lot of good hiding spots. Is that cool?"

Harrington thinks for a moment, then he nods. "Yep, cool. Now, do you need a lift?"

Back in the familiar clutter of his bedroom, Eddie thinks it was a fever dream, a hallucination from a food poisoning, the final revenge of the spaghetti can.

But then he hears Harrington whisper after him: "Don't you dare come out without those sneakers, Munson! No bare feet are getting near shattered glass on my watch!"

And Eddie just snickers, leans out of the window and whispers back: "For you, big boy? I'll even wear pants!"

[perfectlyoongi]

SECOND-CHANCE!YOONGI who showed up at your door when he arrived from a new tour — what happiness could Yoongi have if you, the cause of all the light in the world, weren’t with him?

SECOND-CHANCE!YOONGI who held the cup of coffee you offered him with trembling hands. Yoongi’s heart was racing; no matter how many shows or interviews he’s been through, Yoongi has never felt so nervous, so anxious as he did that night. thinking of so many words, creating different sentences, Yoongi’s mind worked incessantly, peppering each thought with the memory of comfortable silences with you. how was Yoongi supposed to ask you for forgiveness when your breakup was mutual? how was Yoongi supposed to say he missed you when he promised he would forget you, for both of your sake? how was Yoongi supposed t—

SECOND-CHANCE!YOONGI who drinks the coffee with hope in his hands. you opened the door. you invited Yoongi in. you were sitting by Yoongi’s side. you were silent, in a silence that was shared for eternities. you were here. and here was Yoongi too. was it out of pity? no. Yoongi knew you would never give him hope if you didn’t feel it. hope. the coffee was hot, but what comforted Yoongi was this feeling, this thought. a thought that maybe, in a very slim chance, you opened the door to invite Yoongi back into your life. yes. Yoongi needed to have hope. and now, looking at you, as nervous as him, as tired as him, as broken as him, Yoongi knew. Yoongi turned that hope into certainty, because he knew you and knew what your action really meant.

SECOND-CHANCE!YOONGI who simply says “i love you”.

SECOND-CHANCE!YOONGI who felt the world move again when you smiled and repeated the same words. you cast a spell on Yoongi the day you left, a spell that stopped everything in Yoongi’s life except his longing for you. and now, you cast a new spell, a spell that made the world spin, the flowers bloom, the birds sing. you yourself were magic. as if sent by the stars, your words danced a long-rehearsed waltz in Yoongi’s heart. you opened the door. you said it. you still loved Yoongi. and it was with the heat of passion that Yoongi took your hand in his and brought your foreheads together. noses gently brushing against each other, eliciting small, shy smiles from you and Yoongi. and, when he placed his other hand on your cheek, caressing your face, Yoongi swore he came back to life at that exact moment. “i knew it. i knew perfectly well that our story couldn’t end like that. you and i, my love, we were made to love each other.”

SECOND-CHANCE!YOONGI who spends the night at your house without being able to sleep. Yoongi was no longer used to his heart beating. Yoongi was no longer used to breathing without any difficulty. Yoongi was no longer used to feeling alive. how could Yoongi sleep if you were next to him, leaning against him, with your head on his chest? how could Yoongi sleep if reality finally made him happier than his dreams? finally you. three mere words from you were enough to paint Yoongi with hopeful and tender colors. how incredible it was to live in that world now that the word ‘love’ was no longer the stone that Yoongi carried in his heart — light and graceful, the word ‘love’ now floated in Yoongi with the certainty that it would forever dance inside him. “since we broke up, i’ve never been able to get a night’s sleep. i’m exhausted. completely defeated by sleepless nights. but with you here, with you by my side, any fatigue in me is transformed. any feeling i may feel now is transformed. in love. in pure love.”

SECOND-CHANCE!YOONGI who promises you an eternity of love, in this life and in any others to come. now that he had you back, now that he saw, and felt, what it was like to live a life without you. no. Yoongi didn’t live during the time you two were apart. Yoongi just existed. day after day, Yoongi existed, always forcing himself to finish the day, always hoping that you would come back. and you came back. here and now. and Yoongi promised, Yoongi swore, that he would do everything in his power to never lose you again. you were the life that existed inside Yoongi and he will never let you go again. you will forever be his. he will forever be yours. your souls will forever unite in a bond of destiny that was unbreakable no matter how many eternities pass. “you are the breath of life that i need to stay here. losing you means dying. and, love, the devil itself would have to imprison me in hell, for i would come back from the flames of hell to consume you once again with the flame of our love.”

[pacifierbby]

★ *. * · 𝑱𝑬𝑨𝑳𝑶𝑼𝑺 𝑯𝑬𝑨𝑹𝑻𝑺

𝑹𝑬𝑸𝑼𝑬𝑺𝑻𝑬𝑫? you could write something about jealous Lando pleasee. Honestly, I don’t really know what it could be, fluff, smut, or angst. I’ll leave it up to you ♡

୨ৎ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 LN4 x reader

୨ৎ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 none

୨ৎ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓

-𝑵𝑨𝑽𝑰-

He could never understand why you dated so many dickhead men all of them lead to you ringing him up in the middle of the night crying for him to pick you up because yet another fight has occurred leading him to console you over a bottle of wine and some much-needed cuddles he just wished that you would open up and see everything he did for you was because he fell madly in love with you he was just coward to even tell you scared to even ruin the friendship between the both of you making him move into self-pity when you go crying to him wishing he would tell you how much he loves you. The day you told him that you've got another boy on the block that you think it's going really well and that maybe he's the one and not one toxic trait coming from him did massively hurt lando he just wished for your sake that that was true and that you found the one.

You and Lando chilling in his Monaco apartment the sun shining through the big bay windows giving you a soft glow "Hey Lando what are you doing tonight?" looking over to you "Uh nothing tonight was thinking off chilling in for the night" shrugging "well me and ben thinking about going to that new club if you want to join" making his smile instantly fade quickly smiling so you didn't notice "uh yeah sure" making sure that you didn't notice which you were more engrossed in your phone than him at the moment having this small feeling that something was going to go wrong tonight but he keep that between himself knowing it will probably cause a fight between you both the last time he announced his thoughts about your ex you told him that everything was wrong and stopped being an arsehole and that he was using you to get to him was completely wrong when later down the line he was right and you apologised massively for that and ever since then he watched you figure your ex-boyfriends out yourself.

Lando always knew how you felt after that and you told him that a couple of guys before that did try and use you to see him and ever since then he promised himself and to you that he would never bring the conversation up again knowing how much that it affected you which you were happy that he listened to you and your feelings Lando didn't know that deep down that you wished he was something more to you but just like him you was a coward to even tell him and that all these guys are just to push your feelings away from him and with Ben that worked greatly. As much as it hurt him it hurt you seeing him with so many women daily making you separate from him for a little which he never understood why but it was easier for you like that.

"Ben said that's great and we are going at 8 o clock is that okay for you?" looking away from your phone towards him "Uh yeah will it be fine for me to invite Margarida? Making your heart stop a little "Yeah yeah that's fine" getting up from the comfort of the couch "Well I'm going to go back to my apartment to get ready I think Ben is going to pick me up so I'll meet you at the club?" making Lando nod walking over giving you a side hug walking you over to his door.

He knew he shouldn't have asked if his recent hook-up could come but he really needed to get you and Ben out of his mind for the rest of the night only he could think that Margarida would be a better option other than alcohol quickly sending her a text. He never told you that she was a hook-up he just wanted you to automatically think that they were together hoping for some kind of reaction from you which you didn't really show. he doesn't know how long he can put this charade up for...

8 o'clock came quicker than he hoped the sun slowly moving down behind the clouds sighing and looking at himself in the mirror "Hey babe do you like my dress" rolling his eyes " Marg haven't I told you to stop calling me that?!" he couldn't really stand her voice at the moment "but yes yes I do now come on they're here" not even give her another chance to change the godamn dress for the seventeenth time that hour.

The new club was lively tonight well obviously they are all here for the same reason you are. Looking towards Lando I saw that he was more interested in the glass than whatever Marg was actually saying to him which was odd but you cant deny Lando had picked a really gorgeous girl slim, blonde hair a model all-check box list that you couldn't really check for him yes you was jealous of Marg knowing that she has something that you don't which you truly wished you had "hey Lando shall we get the drinks?" ben spoke interrupting your thoughts which honestly you was actually thankful for but looking at lando it's like his thoughts been interrupted to "uh yeah sure"

Lando looks over towards you every chance he can get to make sure you are okay "So you and Marg eh?" Ben spoke making his eyes leave you "' we're really not together she's just one of my huck-ups" taking a sip of his beer while waiting for the other orders "Oh well if we're on that category" Ben paused "I'm only with her because of you" making Lando look back at him furious his hands tightly around his glass "What!" Lando automatically wants to meet his hands with his face but he knows he cant "Well you're cool and she's your friend so she is my better option" he laughed a little not really observing that Lando was mad "Are you joking Ben that women has everything that you need why!" "well the sex is another good thing" that was it for Lando his fist connecting to his face.

However, y/n saw everything running towards the boys "What the hell Lando!" dragging Ben next to her and looking at his face "Tell her what you told me tell her!" Y/N looked confused towards Ben but only he smirked: "I don't know what you're talking about?" Lando's hands fisted once again "this dickhead told me he only wants you Y/N because you are my friend and I quote that sex is another good thing" She didn't want to hear more "Please tell me he's joking Ben please" but ben just shrugged and nodded "then Lando had the right to hit you and hear I am stupid defending your dumb arse" she didn't want to see her cry that just shows that he won Lando grabbed her hand walking her out off the club

"I'm so sorry Lando I'm so sorry to defend him over you I don't know what to say" the tears slowly coming out Landos hand automatically wiping them away "Listen love I totally understand you didn't know you didn't listen you wasn't their I get it" out off all the words Lando know what to do or say he knew how to console you and everyday you was grateful for it "shall we go home" you just nodded wanting to get away from this club.

Both Lando and Y/n are wide awake in two separate rooms both of them thinking the same things after tonight y/n truly knew her forever was and it was under her nose forever and honestly it only took for tonight to find out the jealous thoughts when he had women surrounding him wanting to just grab him and just be hers she felt silly letting all these men degrade her when there was one man who praised her made her feel loved and praised the floor she walked on. For Lando, he thought the same the constant jealousy for all the men that she dated.

y/n walked into Lando's room she just about saw his shadow wrapped around the quilt in his bed "Are you awake" she whispered his figure slowly waking up "Come here" his voice responded lifting his quilt covers inviting in quickly jumping in "Thank you for tonight Lando I couldn't thank you enough" Lando grabbed her hand she was thankful that it was dark but the blush she had on her face will probably make her like a tomato "can I be honest with you?" Y/N nodded "Uh Y/N I like you no I love you. you honestly don't understand everything I feel when you tell me you got another boy but after tonight everything I think is because I fell for you a while ago and I'm so sorry that it took me this long to tell you" Y/N leaned over turning the bedside lamp on looking towards Lando's eyes "honestly Lando it took me tonight when in bed with my own little mind to finally understand what I'm actually feeling is that I'm falling in love with you as well I just want to say thank you for making me feel the way I should feel from a man" Lando leant over wiping the tear away from her cheek the one she didn't notice that even left her "can I kiss you" Y/N nodded both of them connected they're lips and after that she knew that Lando was forever.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ © 𝘱𝘢𝘤𝘪𝘧𝘪𝘦𝘳𝘣𝘣𝘺

[solxamber]

Shark Tanks and Shady Deals - Azul Ashengrotto x reader

After narrowly dodging a one-way trip to the sharks, you've hit rock bottom, career-wise. Enter Azul: your friendly (totally-not-shady) talent manager. In a moment of desperation, you sign with him. Wait, he's actually really good at this. Like, too good at this. Maybe the near-shark experience was just the universe’s weird way of setting you up?

w.c: 10.5k

You were doomed. Utterly and completely screwed.

The day had started out as usual—you’d shown up for filming in your usual state of caffeine-induced autopilot. But the moment you stepped on set, you’d been hit with the news that the director wanted a small change to your next scene.

A small change, they’d said.

You weren’t sure how dangling over a pool filled with actual sharks for the sake of some cheap thrills counted as a "small" change.

Seriously. Actual sharks. And worse? The scene involved you trying to “seduce” the lead while balancing on a wobbly plank that dangled above the tank. Who wrote this script? Why was this being greenlit? This had to be breaking a law.

“You’ll be perfectly safe!” the director had assured you with that suspicious smile that directors give when they’re one day away from having a lawsuit slapped on their desk. “We’ve had the sharks… sedated. Probably. No need to worry!”

"Probably" wasn't exactly reassuring.

And that’s how you’d found yourself standing in front of your director and refusing. Actually refusing. You weren’t about to let yourself become the thumbnail for the next YouTube video essay about ‘Actors Who Died Stupidly for Garbage Art.’

“C’mon, what are you, chicken?” your co-star had sneered, all smug as if he wasn’t terrified himself. He’d been gripping the railing with white knuckles while trying to act all cool about it.

“Listen, if I wanted to end my career, or my life, I’d start a Twitter feud with a K-pop group,” you had deadpanned, crossing your arms. “I’m not doing it.”

What followed was a spectacular implosion. You could still see the disbelief on the director’s face, as if the concept of an actor saying “no” was alien to him. Your refusal? It kicked off a chain reaction: you were labeled “difficult,” your role was cut, and before you knew it, your agency had dropped you faster than you could say "shark-infested waters."

Now, you were sitting on a park bench, staring at the crumbs of your half-eaten sandwich, contemplating the life choices that had led you to being unemployed and blacklisted from any decent drama in the country. The sharks might’ve been preferable to this.

You sighed. Maybe you’d start a new life. Move to a remote island and become a hermit. Or maybe a fisherman! Fishermen didn’t have to deal with directors, right?

“Excuse me,” a smooth voice cut into your thoughts, breaking you out of your pity party. You blinked up, squinting into the sunlight, only to find yourself staring at a man who was entirely too polished for this park. He was dressed in a perfectly tailored suit, his silver-rimmed glasses reflecting the afternoon light in just the right way that you almost thought he was some kind of model.

“Sorry to disturb you,” he said, flashing a well-practiced smile. “But you seemed rather... troubled.”

Great. You were so pathetic that strangers were now approaching you out of concern. Fantastic.

“No, it’s fine,” you mumbled, trying to sound less pathetic than you actually were. “I’m just... processing life.”

“Well,” he said, taking a seat beside you with a confidence that made you think he owned the place, “I couldn’t help but overhear a bit about your recent… situation.”

You side-eyed him. “Do I have a sign on my back that says ‘Miserable and Fired’?”

He chuckled softly, and you realized that he probably did know your situation—if the sly look in his eyes was anything to go by. This guy was shady. No questions about it.

“But you know,” he continued, leaning back against the bench, “for someone with your talent, there are always… opportunities. You just need the right connections.”

The way he said "connections" sent a small shiver down your spine. Oh, great. This guy’s gonna offer me some dodgy deal involving pyramid schemes, isn’t he?

“Who are you, exactly? I don't want to sell MLMs by the way” you say, skeptical.

He flashed you a business card. Azul Ashengrotto, CEO of Mostro Corp. The card was ridiculously fancy—embossed gold lettering, sleek finish. It practically screamed ‘shady but professional.’

“I’m a manager,” he said smoothly. “I run an agency that helps clients… of a certain caliber.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Certain caliber?”

“Talented, of course,” he said, smiling like a fox who’d just found a henhouse. “And from what I’ve seen, you have the potential to be a star. It’s just a shame that such talent is going to waste.”

You stared at him for a moment, half expecting him to start laughing and reveal that this was some kind of prank show. But he didn’t. He just kept smiling that annoyingly charming smile, waiting for you to bite the bait.

And you were desperate enough to bite. “Alright, Mr. Ashengrotto. I'll bite. What’s your deal?”

What followed was one of the strangest business meetings you’d ever been part of. You found yourself in a dimly lit café that doubled as Azul’s office, where he laid out his plans for your career with the kind of precision and efficiency that made your head spin.

Everything seemed normal at first—he arranged auditions for you, connected you with stylists, and even got you a few decent roles to build your portfolio. But then, things started getting weird.

For one, Floyd Leech—the guy who looked like he enjoyed squeezing the life out of people for fun—was suddenly your bodyguard. You had no idea why you needed a bodyguard, but there Floyd was, lurking behind you with that predatory grin of his, ready to pounce on anyone who so much as looked at you funny.

“Oh, don’t worry about Floyd,” Azul had said with a dismissive wave when you’d asked about it. “He’s just there for… insurance purposes.”

Insurance against what? You’d wondered, but wisely kept your mouth shut.

Then there was Jade. Ever the smooth talker, Jade seemed to be involved in every part of your career—whether it was subtly manipulating the press or somehow making your critics mysteriously disappear from public view. He was polite and terrifyingly efficient, and you were certain he could make entire scandals vanish with a snap of his fingers. He was shady, but he was the PR manager of your dreams.

And then there was Azul himself. The man was shady, no question. Every time he smiled at you, you half expected him to ask you to sign your soul over to him. But strangely enough, you found yourself growing fond of him. Despite the underhanded methods and the vaguely mafia-esque vibes, Azul actually cared about your success. He was invested in making sure you succeeded.

He pulled out all the stops just to make sure you were taken care of. The small, thoughtful gestures that he tried to pass off as “business necessities” but were far too personal to be anything but affection.

One day, you came back from a particularly grueling audition to find a brand-new set of skincare products waiting for you. Attached to the box was a note: “You deserve only the best. – A.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the warmth that spread through your chest.

Azul falls first. And he falls hard.

It had been a good day—or at least, it had been a good enough day. You were walking down the corridor towards Azul’s office, ready to talk about your first gig under his management. You’d been feeling a little lighter lately, knowing that things were finally falling into place with your career. Azul had been a lifesaver, despite his rather... unconventional methods.

But as you approached the door, you froze.

Muffled voices were coming from inside. At first, you thought it was just a typical business negotiation. After all, Azul had many clients and was no stranger to... tense conversations. But then, the voices escalated. One, in particular, sounded agitated, bordering on furious.

You tiptoed closer to the door, the actor in you instinctively picking up on the subtext and emotional cues of the conversation. Whoever was in there was pissed off. You strained to listen.

“I don’t care what the contract says,” the voice spat out, dripping with indignation. “I’m the star of this show. Do you think I’ll let some washed-up nerd dictate how I do my job? I’ve got producers eating out of my hand. You’re lucky I even signed on with your pathetic little company.”

Oof. That was... rough.

There was a pause, and you could picture Azul’s composed expression, his steely calm always in place no matter how nasty things got. His voice was cool, detached. “As your manager, it’s my job to ensure you fulfill the obligations outlined in your contract. If you fail to adhere to them, there will be consequences.”

The other voice laughed—a nasty, derisive sound. “Consequences? Please. What are you going to do? Sue me? You’re just a glorified, ugly, little accountant with delusions of grandeur. I’m the star. Without me, your little operation crumbles. I suggest you remember who holds the power here, Ashengrotto.”

You could feel the insult hanging heavy in the air. Your fists clenched. You knew that comment had really hit. It wasn’t just about the power dynamic in the industry; this actor was taking a shot at Azul’s looks.

You couldn’t take it anymore. You weren’t just going to stand there and let some arrogant, entitled actor stomp all over him. You burst through the door.

“Excuse me,” you said, loud and clear, your eyes fixed on the offending party. They turned to you, surprised. “I couldn’t help but overhear your eloquent speech just now. Really, it was breathtaking. Almost Shakespearean in its delusion.”

The actor blinked, caught off-guard by your sudden entrance.

“And I have to say,” you continued, crossing your arms and giving them a once-over, “you must be so proud of yourself. I mean, to have reached such heights in your career despite having the personality of a wet sock? Incredible. Truly. I’m amazed the directors can tolerate you long enough to hand you a script.”

Azul’s eyes widened slightly as you strolled further into the room, all confidence and righteous indignation. He stood frozen, clearly stunned that you had shown up at just the right time.

The actor’s face turned red, their expression twisting into a snarl. “Who do you think you are?”

“Oh, me? I’m just the one who reads contracts before signing them,” you said sweetly, throwing them a sharp smile. “But hey, I get it—reading is hard for some people. That’s why we have professionals like Azul here. You know, people who are smart enough to handle things like legal terms and intellectual property, which are clearly out of your wheelhouse. Not everyone can be as brilliant as you when it comes to... what was it again? Oh, right, throwing tantrums because the world doesn’t revolve around you.”

Azul blinked, still processing what was happening. You were... defending him? Fiercely? His heart did a little stutter-step, but he tried to pull himself together.

The actor sneered at you, puffing up their chest. “I don’t have to stand here and listen to this. I’m the one with the power here!”

You tilted your head, as if you were considering their words. “Oh, you’re so powerful. Look at you! Big, mighty star. But let me tell you something,” you said, stepping closer with an almost predatory grin, “in this industry? Power isn’t just about being on camera. It’s about the people who pull the strings behind the scenes. People like Azul, who are smart enough to navigate contracts, negotiations, and legalities. You know, the things you clearly didn’t understand when you signed your name on that dotted line.”

You turned to Azul, flashing him a grin before looking back at the actor. “And trust me, you wouldn’t last two minutes without someone like him watching your back. So, instead of throwing a tantrum, why don’t you go home, read your contract—assuming you can read—and think about how grateful you should be that someone as capable as Azul is even willing to manage you.”

The actor sputtered, unable to form a coherent response.

Azul, meanwhile, was still trying to catch his breath. He knew you were a talented actor, but this? This was something else. The way you stood up for him with such... confidence, such fire, had him reeling. His mind was spinning in ways he couldn’t quite grasp. You had stood up for him, defended him so fiercely, and made it look effortless. His heart gave another traitorous lurch in his chest. He wasn’t supposed to feel this way—certainly not about a client. But, wow, the way you had just handled that situation was...

The actor stormed out of the office, slamming the door behind them. You just stood there, hands on your hips, victorious. You turned to Azul with a grin.

“Problem solved,” you said with a wink.

Azul blinked, mouth slightly open. “I... What just...”

“You’re welcome,” you said, walking up to him and tapping the stack of contracts in his hand. “You’re too polite sometimes. Let people like me do the talking every once in a while.”

Azul’s mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. You could practically hear the gears grinding in his head as he tried to process his emotions. All he could think about was how confident you were, how assertive, how... attractive.

Jade and Floyd would never let him live this down.

But right now, Azul couldn’t think about that. All he could think about was how you had defended him so effortlessly and how his heart was racing in a way he’d never quite felt before. Oh no. He was in trouble.

And as you shot him another smile, one of those dazzling, confident grins that made his stomach flip, Azul realized something else: He was falling. Hard.

You’re sitting in the lounge of Mostro Corp’s office, Azul across from you, his usual composed self with a pen in hand as he reviewed some new contracts. Everything felt calm—well, calm for him. You, on the other hand, were fidgeting in your seat. You needed to break the news to him about the offer, and frankly, you had no idea how to approach it.

“So,” you begin, trying to sound as casual as possible, “I got an offer from another agency.”

Azul’s pen screeched to a halt, freezing mid-signature as if someone had just told him that Mostro Lounge had run out of drinks during peak hours. He didn’t look up immediately—no, instead, his glasses slid ever so slightly down his nose, the slight twitch of his fingers giving away the panic brewing underneath his pristine exterior.

“What?” His voice came out strangled, halfway between an octave too high and a choking sound.

You, blissfully unaware of the storm brewing in Azul’s brain, continued casually, “Yeah, it’s from one of those top agencies. They think I have a lot of potential and want to sign me on for this big, high-profile drama. Pretty exciting, huh?”

You were practically grinning like a child who’d just found a shiny new toy, but Azul? He was seconds away from a full-blown existential crisis.

Inside Azul’s mind, things were rapidly spiraling out of control. Top agency? High-profile drama? They want to sign you?! He’d invested so much time, so much effort—no, no, this couldn’t be happening. His precious investment… his precious person… stolen away by another agency?! Ridiculous! Outrageous! It was completely… utterly… breaking him.

Azul’s inner monologue was a flurry of despair and denial. He could almost see it now—some slick, rival manager swooping in with promises of red carpets and glamorous roles, tempting you away with glitzy trailers and five-star restaurants. No, this couldn’t be how it ended. He had to keep you with him!

On the outside, however, Azul forced his face into a tight, polite smile that looked more like a man moments from passing out. “I… see. And you’re… considering this offer?” The words left his lips like venom, though you didn’t catch the sheer level of devastation laced into them.

“Yeah, it seems like a good opportunity,” you replied, shrugging casually. “It might be good for my career, right? I mean, that’s what you’ve always wanted, isn’t it?”

Oh god, Azul thought, his brain short-circuiting as he stared at you. This is it. I’m losing them. They’re going to leave me for some flashy agency, and then—then what? I’ll never see them again!

Azul’s breath came out in small, controlled bursts as he tried to keep himself from visibly panicking. No, calm down, Ashengrotto. You’re a businessman. You can negotiate your way out of this. But a small part of his brain, the part that was definitely not a businessman, was screaming, Please don’t leave me!

“Ah, well… perhaps we should… further discuss your future endeavors?” Azul finally said, his voice tight. He placed his hands on his desk, knuckles white as he forced a smile that looked like it was causing him actual physical pain.

But you, bless your completely oblivious heart, smiled brightly and nodded. “Sure! I mean, I haven’t accepted it yet, so I thought I’d run it by you first.”

Azul nearly choked. Haven’t accepted it yet? His brain did a frantic backflip. Wait—there’s still hope!

His brain quickly switches to damage control mode. He straightened his posture, trying to regain some semblance of his usual composed businessman self. “You… haven’t accepted the offer yet?” he asked, voice carefully neutral.

“Nope,” you replied, reaching for a snack on the table. “I figured I’d talk to you first. You know, weigh my options.” You casually popped a cracker in your mouth, completely unaware that Azul was just about two seconds away from collapsing into a puddle of pure relief.

Azul’s heart soared. Okay, okay, we still have time. I just need to—wait, did they just say they wanted to run it by me? He blinked, his brain spinning in confusion. Why would they…?

He cleared his throat, adjusting his glasses in an attempt to regain control of the situation. “I see. I’m… honored that you would consider discussing it with me first.” The relief in his voice was palpable, though he tried his best to maintain his usual air of dignity. “Though… I would like to remind you of the benefits of staying with Mostro Corp. We have always prided ourselves on our… unique approach to talent management.”

He said this with the air of a lawyer arguing a life-or-death case, when in reality, you were just mulling over whether you wanted fancier sushi or Azul’s morally ambiguous but highly effective business tactics.

Meanwhile, Azul’s brain was going a mile a minute. I can’t lose them. I’ve put too much into this. There must be something I can do… His eyes flicked to you, who was munching happily on crackers, completely unaware of the dramatic turmoil unfolding inside his head.

“Well, of course, you know I value everything you’ve done for me,” you said with a smile, patting his hand. “It’s just nice to know that I’ve got other options, you know?”

Options?! Azul’s brain screamed. NO! I AM THE ONLY OPTION! But outwardly, he managed to laugh—albeit a little shakily—and nod. “Yes… options… how delightful…”

You went back to casually munching your snacks, while Azul sat there, mentally spiraling deeper into a pit of doom and gloom, trying to keep a lid on the emotional hurricane swirling inside him.

By the time you finally looked up at him again, his composure had cracked just enough for you to notice the slight tremble in his usually steady hands. “Azul… Are you okay?”

His mind raced, trying to find the words. “I… I just thought that… perhaps you’d prefer to stay with someone who knows you well. Someone who understands your… unique needs.”

You blinked at him. “Wait… Azul, are you jealous?”

Azul sputtered, the words catching in his throat. “I—what? No! Of course not!” His face flushed red, his voice rising in pitch. “Jealousy is for amateurs! I am merely… concerned about your future. As any responsible manager would be!”

“Uh-huh,” you said, a knowing smile spreading across your face. “Right. Of course. Well, just so you know, I haven’t made any decisions yet.”

Azul let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. Okay. Okay. We’re still in the game.

“And besides,” you continued, giving him a reassuring smile, “I trust you, Azul. You’ve done more for me than anyone else has. I’m not going anywhere unless it’s something you think is best for me.”

Azul blinked, his brain stalling for a moment. They trust me? They’re not leaving?

The relief that washed over him was almost too much to bear. He slumped back in his chair, feeling as though the weight of the world had just been lifted off his shoulders. He smiled—a genuine, warm smile that made your heart skip a beat.

“Well then,” he said, his voice softer now, “I suppose we’ll continue as we always have, won’t we?”

You grinned, leaning back in your chair. “Looks like it.”

And for the first time that day, Azul relaxed. But somewhere in the back of his mind, he was already planning how to lock you down even tighter in his company’s grasp… for purely business reasons, of course.

And maybe, just maybe, for something a little more personal.

You were leaning against the wall, sipping on a coffee Azul had bribed Floyd into fetching (after much grumbling and threats about broken kneecaps). Today was a rare break from the constant whirlwind of shoots, and Azul had dragged you along to an event where industry people could network and rub elbows with those who thought they could “make it big.” You were supposed to be schmoozing, but you honestly couldn’t bring yourself to care.

From across the room, you watched as a tall, good-looking actor made a beeline for Azul, who was politely chatting with a producer. The actor had that annoying air of confidence, someone who clearly thought they were a big deal, but not quite there yet. They slid right into the conversation, flashing a brilliant smile at Azul, who raised an eyebrow, bemused but ever the businessman. The actor looked at Azul like he was a prize—no, like he was the prize to win.

“Azul Ashengrotto,” the actor began, their tone dripping with charm. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you. I’ve seen how much of a star you've made of your… client.” They gestured toward you, their eyes briefly flicking in your direction before they focused back on Azul. “I’ve been thinking—I could really use someone with your talents managing my career.”

You snorted into your coffee, nearly choking. Seriously? This guy wants Azul to manage them?

After that dumbass who couldn’t read had pulled that stunt, Azul had delegated all the actors he was managing to his employees, and he was now only managing you, which admittedly made you extremely giddy.

You straightened up from your position against the wall, deciding to interrupt before Azul could even entertain the notion of jumping ship.

With a wide grin and zero hesitation, you strode up to them, placing yourself squarely between the actor and Azul. “Yeah, no. Sorry, but Azul’s my exclusive manager.” You gave them a look that could cut glass, making sure the actor understood the weight of your words. “He’s not taking on any new clients.”

The actor blinked, taken aback by your sudden appearance and directness. “Oh, but—”

“No buts,” you interrupted, standing firm. “Azul is mine. I mean, my manager.” You could feel Azul’s gaze burning into the side of your face, but you kept your focus on the actor. “He’s not available to anyone else. Trust me, he’s busy enough keeping up with all my… uh, brilliance.”

Azul, to his credit, didn’t immediately burst out laughing. Instead, he simply pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, the ghost of a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “What they mean to say,” he said smoothly, “is that I’m currently not looking to expand my roster at this time. But I appreciate the interest.”

The actor, visibly flustered, tried to salvage the situation. “I see… I didn’t mean to intrude, I just thought—”

“No hard feelings,” you said, patting their arm in what you hoped was a reassuring gesture. “But I’d suggest finding someone else. Someone… less exclusive.”

The actor gave a forced smile and mumbled something about needing to talk to someone across the room before scampering off. The moment they were out of earshot, you turned back to Azul, who was eyeing you with a raised brow, lips twitching like he was trying his hardest not to burst out laughing.

“Exclusive manager, huh?” he mused, his voice warm with amusement. “I didn’t realize I’d been promoted to such a prestigious title.”

You shrugged, not even slightly embarrassed. “Hey, I’ve got to protect my manager. I can’t have you getting distracted by someone else.”

Azul chuckled softly, but the laughter wasn’t entirely aimed at the situation. No, it was more for how ridiculously flattered he felt by your words. Exclusive, huh? He’d never thought he’d be the sort of person to get all giddy over being someone’s exclusive anything, but there it was. Something about the way you’d swooped in so quickly to claim him—without hesitation—made his heart do a strange little flutter.

Internally, Azul was practically doing cartwheels. You had no idea how hard it was for him to suppress the grin threatening to take over his face. But, ever the composed businessman, he simply adjusted his cufflinks, a faint laugh escaping his lips. “Well, it seems I’m in high demand,” he teased lightly, trying to mask just how pleased he really was.

“You’ve always been in high demand,” you shot back with a grin. “Just lucky for me that I got to you first.”

Azul's laughter this time was soft but genuine. “Indeed. Very lucky.”

But inside, he was absolutely beaming. Not even the prospect of losing a business opportunity could faze him—because honestly, how could anything compare to the feeling of being yours? Even if you didn’t fully realize it yet.

You’d been roped into having dinner with Azul’s family after a business trip to Coral Sea City went surprisingly well. Somehow, what was supposed to be a brief check-in had escalated into a full-blown family dinner at the Ashengrotto household, with Azul, Floyd, and Jade acting as your escorts (read: babysitters).

Azul, as always, had planned to keep things professional. Just a casual dinner. What could go wrong? Except, as it turned out, quite a lot.

The minute you walked in, you were greeted by the smell of delicious food and spices, courtesy of Mrs. Ashengrotto, who practically beamed when she saw you with Azul. “Oh! Azul! You didn’t tell me you were bringing your partner!” she exclaimed, wiping her hands on a dish towel.

You blinked in surprise. “Oh, no, I’m not—"

Before you could even finish, Floyd swooped in, grinning like cat who just caught the canary “Yup, they’re totally dating, Auntie! Azul’s been so secretive, but we finally got him to spill the beans, heh~”

You shot Azul a panicked glance, but his face had already turned a subtle shade of pink. He cleared his throat, trying to maintain his composure. “That’s… not exactly true, Mother. They’re my client.”

“Client? Is that what they’re calling it these days?” Mrs. Ashengrotto asked, giving you both a knowing wink.

You were on the verge of correcting her again, but before you could, Jade, ever the schemer, chimed in. “Oh, it’s quite romantic, really. Azul’s always looking after them, making sure they’re taken care of, both in their career and in life. The dedication he shows is quite admirable.”

“That’s because I’m their manager,” Azul muttered, shooting Jade a glare that clearly said please stop helping.

“Manager? Oh, Azul, don’t be so modest,” Mrs. Ashengrotto said, her voice soft with maternal pride. “It’s wonderful that you’re so dedicated to them.”

Floyd, ever the troublemaker, leaned in with a mischievous grin. “Did you know that Azul practically handpicks all of their outfits too? He’s got a real eye for detail.”

Azul looked mortified. “I did not—”

“Isn’t that romantic?” Jade sighed dramatically, placing a hand over his heart. “Choosing clothes for someone, guiding them through their career, always by their side…”

Azul pinched the bridge of his nose, fighting the urge to throttle his eels. “I’m just ensuring they look professional.”

Mrs. Ashengrotto smiled sweetly at the exchange. “That’s so thoughtful of you, Azul. Just like your stepfather—always looking out for the people he cares about.”

You opened your mouth to interject, but before you could get a word in, Azul’s grandmother shuffled in from the next room, her staff clicking against the floor. She was a small, wizened woman with sharp eyes that seemed to peer straight through you.

“Ah,” she said, nodding sagely. “So this is the one who has captured Azul’s heart.”

You felt like you were about to faint. “No, no, no! We’re not—”

“Don’t be shy, dear,” Azul’s grandmother interrupted, giving you a smile that somehow made you feel accepted. “Azul’s always been very particular, but I see why he’s chosen you. Strong-willed, intelligent… It’s a good match.”

Azul’s face was the color of a boiled lobster at this point. “Grandmother, they’re not—"

“Oh, it’s just like a fairy tale,” Floyd sighed dramatically, flinging his arms wide. “The manager and the star, united against the odds! Love blossoming amidst the contracts!”

Jade leaned in, his voice smooth and teasing. “I suppose we’ll have to prepare a speech for the engagement party soon. You wouldn’t want to be caught unprepared, would you, Azul?”

Azul shot Jade a look that could kill. “There will be no engagement because there is nothing to engage.”

You, meanwhile, were torn between laughing and crawling under the table. How had this situation spiraled so completely out of control?

“Ah, young love,” Mrs. Ashengrotto said with a fond sigh. “It’s a beautiful thing. Just like when I met my husband. He was so shy at first too, you know.”

“I am not shy!” Azul protested, but his voice lacked its usual bite. He glanced at you, clearly embarrassed, but you could see the way his lips twitched with a suppressed smile. He was as flustered as you were, even if he was trying not to show it.

You decided to just give up and lean into it. “Well, I guess if everyone’s so sure we’re a couple,” you said, throwing a look at Azul, “then maybe we should start acting like one?”

Azul froze for a second, then gave you a half-amused, half-exasperated look. “You’re absolutely not helping.”

Jade chuckled. “Oh, but they are, Azul. They most certainly are.”

Azul sighed, shaking his head, but there was a faint smile on his face. His family continued to dote on you both throughout dinner, exchanging stories about Azul’s childhood and teasing him endlessly about your “relationship.” And while it was all a little overwhelming, you couldn’t help but find it… oddly heartwarming.

At the end of the night, as you and Azul finally managed to escape his family’s clutches, you caught him glancing at you, a rare softness in his eyes.

“You know,” he said quietly, “they’re never going to stop teasing us about this.”

You laughed, bumping his shoulder lightly. “Well, it could be worse. At least they like me.”

Azul smiled, his expression warm despite the chaos of the evening. “That, they do.”

And maybe, just maybe, you weren’t entirely opposed to the idea of them being right.

The role was wild from the start: you’d been cast as a “Hay-Witch.” Yes, you heard that right. A Hay-Witch. The small-time movie was hyped as the next indie darling—a quirky, fantasy-adventure flick where your character used the mystical powers of hay to cure ailments, summon the wind, and fend off demons. It was like a strange blend of Hallmark romance and someone’s fever dream. And of course, you had to research this bizarre profession to get into character.

Where do you even begin? Naturally, with a trip to the village of Elderstraw, home to the world’s last remaining Hay-Witch practitioners. Because yes, apparently, that’s a thing.

You were baffled, Azul was intrigued, and the both of you set off to the countryside, where adventure awaited—and perhaps a bit of weirdness, too.

The village itself was charming in a “smells like cows and fresh grass” kind of way. Everyone was far too friendly, as if they hadn’t seen an outsider in years. You couldn’t walk five steps without someone giving you fresh milk, yogurt, or, unsurprisingly, bundles of hay. It was bizarre but kind of sweet.

It all seemed manageable until one of the village elders, a sprightly old woman with a mischievous glint in her eye, mistook you and Azul for a couple.

“Oh! Look at you two, so in love!” she exclaimed, hands clasped dramatically to her chest. “It warms my heart to see young folks so smitten.”

Azul chuckled, clearly amused. You, however, were mid-sip of water and nearly choked on it.

“No, no, we’re just—” you began, waving your hands wildly.

“Deny it all you want,” she said with a wink, “but love speaks louder than words. It’s in your eyes! And don’t you worry—we’ll make sure you enjoy all the festival activities together as a pair.”

“What festival?” you asked weakly.

“The Hay Festival, of course! Only couples can participate,” she said matter-of-factly, grabbing your face and Azul’s, smushing them together. “There’s no need to be shy! We’re not a judging village!”

Azul, the absolute traitor, merely smiled and shrugged. “When in Elderstraw…”

You shot him a withering look, but it was no use. The village had already decided, and there was no backing out.

The day started innocently enough, with the village’s version of “couple activities.” First up was the “Two-Man Hay Bale Haul,” a ridiculous contest where you and your supposed partner had to lift bales of hay and stack them as high as possible. Azul, ever the perfectionist, approached it like it was an Olympic event. Meanwhile, you were doing your best not to trip over the giant, scratchy bales.

“Careful,” Azul teased, as he hoisted yet another bale. “We wouldn’t want to ruin that professional image of yours.”

“I’m already in a village hauling hay for a Hay-Witch movie,” you grumbled. “My professional image is long gone.”

Next up was the “Lovers’ Hay Ride,” where you were forced to sit in a tiny wooden cart filled with—you guessed it—hay, while the local farmhands pulled you through the fields. The villagers serenaded you with what could only be described as country ballads.

Azul, to your horror, looked positively relaxed. You, on the other hand, felt like you were one step away from a sitcom-level breakdown.

“It’s peaceful here,” Azul remarked, gazing out at the rolling fields. “Don’t you think?”

“Peaceful?” you muttered, shoving a piece of hay out of your sleeve. “I’ve got hay everywhere. I think it’s multiplying.”

But it didn’t stop there. The locals had arranged a series of “intimate couple activities” that only got more ridiculous. From attempting to weave “love charms” out of hay (yours looked like a sad clump of straw), to participating in a “Hay-Witch Fortune Telling,” where the village’s oldest resident peered into a bowl of dried hay and made proclamations about your future.

“You’ll marry before the harvest!” the elderly fortune teller cried, her wrinkled face lighting up with joy. “I see it as clear as day! Your love will thrive like our crops in spring!”

You coughed, feeling a bit light-headed from the sheer absurdity of it all. “Uh, thanks? I think?”

Azul snickered, clearly enjoying the spectacle. “You heard her. Before the harvest.”

“Shut up,” you hissed, elbowing him.

But the straw that broke the hay-witch’s back came when the village elders insisted you both join them in the “Festival of Eternal Union”—which was apparently just a fancy way of saying “giant group picnic where all couples feed each other.”

“I’m going to die here,” you muttered as an elder handed you a basket of homemade cheese and bread. “This is how it ends for me.”

Azul, ever the opportunist, merely handed you a slice of bread with a smirk. “Then I’ll make sure it’s a memorable end.”

And somehow, throughout all of it, you found yourself… softening. The ridiculous activities, the constant teasing, the stolen glances and easy banter—it was all so strange, yet it felt right. Maybe it was the quiet charm of the village, or maybe it was just Azul being… well, Azul.

Your heart started doing funny little flips whenever he smiled at you, or when his hand brushed against yours by accident (or, more likely, on purpose). You were used to his confidence, his calculated demeanor, but here, in the middle of nowhere, he seemed softer. More human.

At some point, as you sat under the shade of a giant oak tree, watching the sunset, you realized with a jolt: Oh no. I’m actually falling for him.

You stared at him as he casually offered you a piece of fruit from the basket, completely unaware of the internal crisis you were having.

I’m falling for Azul Ashengrotto. In a tiny village where they think I’m a Hay-Witch. In the middle of a field. Because of hay. How is this my life?

The universe had a twisted sense of humor, clearly.

Azul glanced over at you, noticing your silence. “Something on your mind?”

You blinked rapidly, trying to compose yourself. “Uh, no! Nope. Just thinking about… hay.”

Azul quirked an eyebrow. “Hay?”

“Yeah,” you said lamely. “Lots of it here.”

He chuckled softly, shaking his head, hand brushing against yours. “You’re something else, you know that?”

Oh god, you thought, your heart thudding in your chest. I’m really doomed.

You're no coward. You've realized your feelings and you're going to do something about it. You're almost certain he likes you back so all you have to do was confess right?

Oh, you sweet summer child. You wish.

The sun had barely crept up over the horizon, but you were already at work, trying once again to get through Azul’s thick, polished skull that you had a crush on him. It had been weeks—no, months—of subtle hints. Casual touches on the arm. Extra compliments on his outfits. Playfully stealing his pens during meetings. Even dropping lines like, “You know, if you weren’t my manager, you’d make a great boyfriend.” Nothing had worked. Not even a flicker of recognition in those brilliant blue eyes of his.

Across the room, Floyd and Jade were quietly dying. Well, Floyd was barely quiet. His cackling echoed through the office more than once, only to be shushed by a very flustered Azul.

You sighed, watching Azul as he flipped through some papers, oblivious to the chaos happening right in front of him. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was intentionally ignoring your advances. But no—this was Azul. The guy who was both brilliant and completely clueless when it came to romance. It was like trying to flirt with a brick wall that had an MBA.

“Alright,” Azul muttered, adjusting his glasses. “Here’s the agenda for today’s meeting. We’ll need to go over the contract for your next project and—”

You weren’t even listening. Not really. You were too busy devising your next plan of attack. Jade caught your eye from across the room, smirking knowingly, while Floyd had his face buried in a pillow, trying not to burst into laughter again. They both knew what was coming. They always knew what was coming. This time, you weren’t going to go subtle. No, subtlety had failed you. This time, you were going to drop a bomb so big, Azul wouldn’t be able to deny it.

“Well,” you began, standing up from your chair with a dramatic flair. “Azul, there’s something I need to tell you.”

Azul barely looked up from his paperwork. “Yes? Is it about the new script?”

“No,” you said, a mischievous grin playing on your lips. “It’s about something... much more important.”

“More important than the script?” Azul raised an eyebrow, finally looking up at you. “Are you feeling alright? Should we reschedule the meeting?”

Jade had already covered his mouth with his hand, trying to stifle his laughter. Floyd had given up any attempt at composure and was sprawled out on the couch, face buried in a pillow, his shoulders shaking uncontrollably.

“No, no,” you continued, ignoring the fact that your two audience members were on the verge of a breakdown. “I’m perfectly fine. I’ve just... I’ve been trying to tell you something for a while now, and I think it’s time I just come out and say it.”

Azul blinked, looking genuinely concerned now. “If it’s about renegotiating your contract, we can certainly—”

“Oh my god, Azul, stop talking about contracts for five seconds!” you blurted out, throwing your hands up in exasperation. “This isn’t about the contract! It’s about you!”

Azul blinked, confusion settling in. “Me?”

“Yes, you!” You took a deep breath, preparing yourself. This was it. The moment of truth. “I like you. Like, really like you. As in, I’m attracted to you. Romantically.”

The silence that followed was deafening.

Azul stared at you, processing your words like you’d just spoken in an ancient, dead language. His eyes darted around the room, looking for some kind of logical explanation, while Jade’s shoulders shook harder with barely-contained laughter. Floyd was now actively biting his pillow to stop from shrieking in delight.

“...What?” Azul finally said, his voice full of disbelief.

“I. Like. You,” you repeated slowly, enunciating every word. “Like, in a romantic way. You know, feelings. Like affection, Azul. I’m saying I have a crush on you.”

Azul’s face flushed pink, and he shook his head rapidly as if trying to clear the fog. “N-no. That... That’s not possible. You must be mistaken.”

Floyd let out a loud snort of laughter, unable to hold back anymore. “Mistaken? About their OWN feelings?” he echoed, half-laughing, half-gasping for air. “Oh, this is too rich!”

Jade was trying to keep his composure, but he was wiping away tears now. “Azul, I do believe they’ve been quite clear.”

But Azul was undeterred. “No, no,” he said, standing up and pacing, hands flying around as he tried to piece together an explanation. “They’re clearly just being friendly. Maybe it’s a... a professional admiration! Yes, that’s it. A-and, perhaps, they’re simply appreciative of my management skills!”

Really? Right in front of your salad? If mental gymnastics was an actual sport, he would be the Olympic gold medalist without breaking a sweat.

Floyd was full-on howling now, tears streaming down his face as he clutched his sides. “Bro, I can’t breathe—what skills are you even talking about?”

“Azul,” you said with as much patience as you could muster, “I’m telling you that I like you in a romantic way. Like... I would very much like to go on a date with you. As in a romantic date.”

Azul stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes widening. “No,” he muttered under his breath, more to himself than to anyone else. “No, that can’t be right. It’s got to be a misunderstanding. you’ve never shown any romantic interest before. There must be some other explanation.”

“There isn’t,” you said, exasperated. “I’ve been dropping hints for months! I’ve been flirting with you this entire time!”

Azul looked at you, his brow furrowed in confusion. “Wait, what?”

You rubbed your temples in frustration. “Do you remember when I complimented your outfit every single day for a week?”

Azul blinked. “I thought you were just being polite.”

“And the time I said I’d love to have a boyfriend as organized as you?”

“I assumed you were just making conversation.”

Floyd rolled off the couch, clutching his stomach and wheezing from laughing so hard. “Boss, you’re killing me!”

Jade patted Azul’s shoulder, his face split into a wide grin. “Azul, perhaps it’s time to accept that they may actually like you.”

Azul stared at you, his brain doing backflips to try and comprehend what was happening. “But... why?”

“Because I like you,” you said with a sigh. “You’re smart, charming, and—despite being utterly oblivious—you’re incredibly caring.”

For a moment, Azul just stood there, mouth agape, trying to wrap his mind around the idea. “But... you’re my client. You can’t possibly like me in that way.”

Jade, at this point, was openly laughing. “Oh, Azul. You truly are one of a kind.”

You sighed again, this time with a fond smile. “You know what? Fine. Don’t believe me. I guess I’ll just have to be even more obvious about it.”

Floyd, still trying to catch his breath, managed to rasp out, “Can’t wait to see how that goes.”

Azul stared between you and his cackling friends, his mind still racing as you simply smiled at him, leaving the final blow for later. But little did he know, you had one more trick up your sleeve—the next time you had an interview, you’d make sure the whole world knew exactly how you felt. That should be obvious enough for even him to understand.

...Hopefully.

The interview was going smoothly—or at least, it was supposed to. You were doing your usual promo rounds for your latest movie, fielding questions with ease, and feeling pretty confident. Azul stood off to the side, clipboard in hand, monitoring everything with his usual meticulous care.

Then, the interviewer hit you with the dreaded question. "So, there's been some talk about your personal life. A lot of fans are dying to know... is there someone special in your life right now?"

You didn’t even hesitate. Flashing a coy smile, you leaned forward in your chair, eyes gleaming with amusement. "You could say that, yeah."

Azul, off to the side, blinked. His eyebrows furrowed, immediately sensing danger. Wait. What? They never mentioned this before... His brain immediately started scanning for any missed signs. Were you seeing someone and hadn’t told him?

The interviewer’s grin widened, clearly excited by the scoop. “Oh, really? Someone special, huh? Do we know them?”

"Well," you mused, pretending to think about it as you twirled the water bottle cap in your hand. “I’d say a lot of people know them. They’re... pretty well-known for being supportive, always looking out for me, and just being an all-around amazing person."

Azul swallowed hard. Supportive? Well-known? He tried to stay calm, but his heart rate was rising. Who the hell could they be talking about?

Jade, meanwhile, had the world's biggest grin on his face. He glanced at Azul, enjoying watching him mentally spiral. This was about to get good.

The interviewer pressed on, eyes practically sparkling. “Sounds like someone really special! Care to drop a hint for us?”

You laughed, a sound that made Azul’s pulse spike for entirely different reasons. “I don’t know if I should,” you teased. “But I guess I could say... they’ve been by my side every step of the way.”

Azul nearly dropped his clipboard. Wait, wait, wait. No way. No, it can’t be… Me? His mind was in chaos. There was no possible way, right?

Azul could feel the heat rising in his cheeks. His thoughts were racing at a million miles per hour. No, they’re definitely just being vague for the media. It’s probably all for the image... right?

Jade leaned over and whispered, loud enough for Azul to hear. “Sounds like they’re talking about someone we know, don’t you think?”

Azul shot him a panicked look. “It’s definitely not me,” he hissed. “They’re just... being friendly. It’s purely platonic. Definitely platonic.”

Jade’s smirk deepened. “If you say so.”

But the more confident you looked, the more Azul found himself spiraling. Your calm, collected attitude was doing something to him, stirring something deeper in his chest that he refused to acknowledge. Why were you so relaxed about this? Were you toying with the media for fun, or... were you serious?

Jade was, by now, thoroughly entertained, watching as Azul’s thoughts clearly spiraled. “Azul,” he said with mock seriousness, “I do believe you might need some water. You’re looking a little pale.”

Azul shot him a glare that could’ve frozen a lake. “I’m fine. They’re just being... vague.”

Jade hummed, unconvinced but highly amused.

But before Azul could continue to stew in his confusion, the interviewer asked the golden question. “So, this person... Is it someone from your current circle? Perhaps a certain... manager?”

Your smile widened. “Oh, absolutely. They’re in my circle. In fact... It is my manager.”

Azul’s heart skipped about six beats. He stared at you in complete shock, the world around him tilting slightly. No...

The interviewer gasped dramatically. “Your manager?! Really?”

"Yep," you replied breezily. "They’ve always been there for me, handling my career, keeping me on track... Honestly, I wouldn’t have come this far without them."

Azul's brain short-circuited. They’re talking about me... Wait, no. Maybe they mean it in a purely professional sense. Yeah. That’s got to be it. This is all just... a misunderstanding.

The interviewer was ecstatic. “That’s so sweet! So, you really admire them, huh?”

You met the interviewer’s gaze, your tone softening slightly. “Yeah... I do. A lot.”

Azul was trying very, very hard not to combust. His hands were shaking slightly, and Jade noticed, elbowing him with a wicked grin. “Still think it’s platonic, Azul?”

“I—” Azul stammered. “They... They must mean it... as a friend. Nothing more.”

Jade chuckled. “Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

The interview finally wrapped up, but the damage was done. You were trying not to laugh as you rejoined Azul and Jade, who were both staring at you with very different expressions. Jade looked like he was about to burst from the sheer amusement of it all, while Azul… Azul looked like he was desperately trying to figure out how to delete your entire existence from the timeline.

“Why did you—?” Azul started, but you just patted his arm, snickering.

“Oh, come on, Azul. Don’t worry so much. It’s not a big deal.”

“Not a big deal?!” he practically screeched. “You just told the world you have feelings for me!”

“Yeah, and?” You shrugged nonchalantly, finding his distress far too entertaining. “Everyone’s gonna find out sooner or later.”

Azul ran his hands through his hair, clearly nearing a full-blown meltdown. “They’re going to think we’re… we’re together! People are going to start making assumptions! What if it affects your career? What if—”

Jade clapped him on the shoulder. “What if you stop panicking and actually consider that maybe… just maybe… they meant what they said?”

Azul was about to protest again when your phone buzzed. You checked it and burst out laughing. “Oh man, Azul, you’ve gotta see this.”

“NOOOO, THEY’RE IN LOVE???” “Who’s Azul and why haven’t we seen them kiss yet??” “Okay, but like… I can’t even be mad, this guy is hot.” “I’m crying… I thought I had a chance 😭” “Azul? More like A-zuuulooooove 🥲” “Wait, isn’t he their manager? Damn, that’s hot.” “I SHIP IT SO HARD!!!” “Okay but let’s be real, they’re glowing lately, so Azul is probably good for them.” “I demand photos of them with this Azul!!! I need to see if he’s worthy!!” “AZUL IS LUCKY AF.” “I thought I was delusional, but NOPE, IT’S REAL!!!” “Lmfao, this is straight out of a K-drama. Is Azul secretly a billionaire?”

Azul just groaned, covering his face again. “I’m going to die.”

You patted his back with a grin. “Nah, you’ll be fine. Just think about all the fans you’re getting now.”

Jade was chuckling beside him. “Oh, I’m sure he’s enjoying this. Internally, he’s probably quite flattered.”

Azul just muttered something incomprehensible, which you chose to interpret as agreement.

All in all, it was probably the most entertaining interview of your life—though for poor Azul, it might have been the most traumatic.

It was supposed to be a routine day on set—a quick shoot, a few lines, and some light action. Nothing out of the ordinary. But of course, that was the day everything went wrong.

You hadn’t even realized anything was amiss at first. Just a small slip while rehearsing a particularly tricky scene. Sure, you scraped your knee, but it wasn’t exactly life-threatening. You shrugged it off as no big deal.

Except it was a big deal to Azul. Because the moment Floyd let slip that you had taken a “gnarly fall,” Azul exploded onto the set like he was auditioning for a telenovela himself.

The door to your dressing room burst open, and there he stood, eyes wide with horror. “You’ve been injured?!”

Before you could even respond, he was at your side, grabbing your hand and scanning you over with frantic intensity. “Where? Where does it hurt? Are you bleeding? Do we need an ambulance?”

“It’s just a scratch—”

“A scratch?! Scratches can get infected! We need antiseptics, bandages—perhaps we should take you to a hospital just in case!” Azul’s voice climbed higher with every word, his panic spiraling out of control.

Floyd, who was leaning against the doorframe, grinned mischievously. “Oh, it was brutal, boss. They were practically airborne, soaring through the air like a majestic seagull—”

“Floyd!” you interrupted, shooting him a glare. “I slipped, and my foot barely left the ground.”

“Details, details,” Floyd said, waving his hand dismissively. “But Azul’s right, you know. Maybe we should call in a medevac.”

Azul’s hands were now fluttering uselessly around your arms, his normally cool demeanor shattered into a thousand frantic pieces. “You could have a concussion! A torn ligament! Internal bleeding! We should get a full-body scan—what if this jeopardizes your career?”

You sighed, feeling both exasperated and oddly touched by his theatrics. “Azul, it’s a scraped knee. I’ll survive.”

But he wasn’t hearing it. “No, no, no. You don’t understand! This industry is cutthroat! We can’t risk even the slightest injury—what if this compromises your ability to walk in heels for a scene? Or worse, what if—"

Finally, you'd had enough. With one swift motion, you grabbed the lapels of his pristine suit and yanked him down to your level. Then, without hesitation, you pressed your lips to his.

Azul froze like someone had just poured a bucket of ice water over his head. His eyes went wide, his hands hovering in the air for a moment before slowly settling on your arms. You held the kiss for a few seconds, long enough for him to stop his rambling.

When you pulled back, Azul blinked, looking dazed and utterly bewildered. “Wha—what was that for?” he stammered, his cheeks flushed pink.

You couldn’t help but laugh at the expression on his face. “To shut you up. Honestly, you’re being ridiculous. It’s just a scratch, and I’m fine.”

“But—” he began, only to stop short when he noticed the faint smile on your face. Slowly, he let out a deep breath, his shoulders relaxing a little. “I… may have overreacted.”

“You think?” you teased, still holding onto his suit.

Azul cleared his throat, straightening his posture, though he couldn’t quite meet your eyes. “Well, I suppose I was a bit... concerned,” he admitted, his voice softer now, more vulnerable.

You raised an eyebrow. “A bit?”

His lips quirked up in a sheepish smile. “Fine, more than a bit.”

The two of you stayed like that for a moment, Azul still holding you close, his earlier panic replaced by a gentle fondness. “You really scared me,” he said quietly, his fingers brushing against your arm in a rare display of tenderness.

You softened at his words, letting go of his suit and resting your hand on his. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you so much.”

Azul exhaled, the tension finally melting away from his shoulders. “Well,” he said, his usual confidence slowly returning, “I suppose I’ll forgive you. But only if you promise to be more careful.”

You smirked. “I’ll try. But no more medical emergencies, okay?”

Azul gave you a soft smile, his thumb tracing gentle circles on your arm. “Agreed.”

Azul still had a hand resting on your arm when Floyd finally disappeared, but the mood shifted slightly, the weight of the moment sinking in. He glanced at you, and though the frantic energy had dissipated, there was still something lingering in his eyes—a hint of hesitation.

You decided to go for it.

“Azul,” you began, your voice soft yet steady, “there’s something I need to tell you.”

He blinked at you, his brows furrowing in concern. “You’re not seriously injured, are you? I knew we should’ve gotten a doctor—”

“No, Azul, it’s not about that,” you cut him off gently, grabbing his hand again to keep him from spiraling. “It’s… about us.”

That got his attention. His body stiffened, and his eyes widened a fraction. “Us?” he repeated, like he’d never heard the word before.

You took a deep breath, your heart pounding in your chest. “I didn’t want to say anything at first because I thought you were delibrately ignoring my confession. But I think… I’ve fallen for you.”

For a solid three seconds, Azul just stared at you. Not a blink. Not a twitch. It was like his entire brain had momentarily short-circuited. “Fallen for me?” he echoed slowly, like he was trying to translate a foreign language in his head. “You’re in love with me?”

“Yeah, that’s kind of what I said,” you teased lightly, though your pulse quickened. “What, is it really so hard to believe?”

Azul swallowed hard, his voice still unusually shaky. “I—well—yes, actually.”

You raised an eyebrow, half-expecting a quip or a deflection. “Why’s that?”

Azul suddenly seemed more flustered than when he thought you needed an ambulance. “I just assumed—well, this whole time I thought… I mean, I thought it was more of a… situationship,” he admitted, his voice dropping lower with each word, like he was embarrassed to even say it. “A temporary thing. Surely you couldn’t actually… love me.”

You let out a small laugh, though it was more affectionate than amused. “You’re really selling yourself short, Azul.”

He stared at you like he was still processing the information, eyes wide and blinking rapidly. “But I’m not… I mean, you could have someone better,” he mumbled, suddenly very interested in the floor.

You rolled your eyes, exasperated and endeared all at once. “Oh my god, Azul. You’re smart, funny, successful, and you care more than you let on. Why do you think I’ve stuck around this long?”

Azul’s cheeks were bright red by now, his lips parting slightly in a way that made him look like a fish out of water. “You… love me.” He repeated again, this time softer, almost like he was afraid to say it too loudly in case it turned out to be a joke.

You couldn’t help but laugh at how flabbergasted he looked. “Yes, Azul. I love you.”

He let out a breath he didn’t seem to realize he was holding, and for a moment, he just stood there, completely silent, his expression one of shock mixed with… something else. Something deeper, like a weight had finally been lifted off his shoulders.

Then, out of nowhere, his hands tightened on your arms, and before you could react, he pulled you into his chest in a sudden, desperate hug. His grip was so tight you were sure he was never going to let go.

“I-I love you, too,” he said, voice muffled against your hair. “I didn’t know how to say it… I thought you’d want something… less complicated than me.”

You smiled, pressing your face into his chest and letting the warmth of his embrace wash over you. “You’re more than worth the complications, Azul.”

His arms loosened just enough to pull back and look at you, eyes glistening just a little, his expression softer than you’d ever seen. “I can’t believe this,” he murmured, almost in disbelief. “I thought—well, I thought you’d tire of me.”

You wiped away a stray tear that had slipped from his eye, your heart swelling. “I don’t think I ever could, even if I tried.”

For a moment, he looked like he might cry again, but he quickly blinked it away, clearing his throat as he attempted to regain some composure. “You’re sure you’re not concussed? Perhaps this is the result of head trauma…”

You laughed, swatting his shoulder playfully. “I’m sure.”

Azul cracked a smile, though he still looked a bit overwhelmed. “Well… I suppose this changes everything.”

Before you could respond, the door creaked open again, and Floyd poked his head in with a devilish grin. “Sooo, I guess I should cancel that medevac, huh?”

Azul groaned, but this time it was more out of exasperated affection than anything else. “Floyd…”

Floyd snickered, winking at you as he sauntered in. “Aww, look at you two, all lovey-dovey. Makes me wanna puke.”

You rolled your eyes. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

Floyd grinned wider. “Nah, I think I’ll stick around. Never know when you might trip and need mouth-to-mouth.”

Azul threw a water bottle at him. “Out!”

Floyd dodged it easily, laughing as he slipped back out the door, leaving the two of you alone again.

Azul sighed, shaking his head, though there was a faint smile on his lips. “He’s never going to let us live this down, is he?”

“Nope, and neither is Jade.” you said, grinning. “But that’s okay. We’ll figure it out.”

Azul looked at you, his gaze soft and warm. “Together.”

“So,” you said after a moment, pulling away just enough to look up at him, “now that we’ve got that sorted, how about we go celebrate? Dinner? Something fancy?”

Azul’s eyes gleamed with excitement, the business side of him flickering to life. “I happen to know a very exclusive place. The best seafood in town, I assure you.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Seafood? After the whole shark tank incident?”

Azul blinked before laughing, realizing the irony. “Alright, maybe something more… neutral.”

And as you glanced at Azul, his hand warm and secure in yours, you couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, the universe had thrown you into this crazy situation for a reason. After all, who else could say their manager turned out to be the love of their life?

Azul Ashengrotto, the shark in a suit, was all yours.

And honestly? You wouldn’t have it any other way.

Masterlist

Okay the azul brainrot was real here, it went from 1k to 2k and i then suddenly was committed to a 10k fic Fun fact: The hay witch thing came from a movie idea that my friends and i came up with while being completely wasted.

[junowritings]

What about romanced Astarion reacting to the normally goody-goody Tav revealing that they stole the special potion from Araj before they left. He discovers this because Tav gives it to him as soon as they are out of sight from the blood merchant.

Oh I absolutely love this idea. Though writing this made me realize I need to put Astarion in my party more often. Went off on a bit of a tangent but I do hope you enjoy~!

=======

♡ Oh, the things we do for love, ey?

♡ Astarion plays nice with others in the interest of survival, and he’s made no attempts to hide that fact from you since you had really begun to bond. You on the other hand are akin to a bleeding heart, all too often going out of your way to do what you thought was right even if it meant putting yourself in harm's way as a result. At the beginning that attitude seemed pitiful - he figured it would simply end up getting you killed later down the line. And yet you’d rise, time and time again making an example of the morals that you set and surviving every encounter stronger than before. Even if your morals didn’t always align, he respected that tenacity.

♡ Even after you’d managed to worm your way into his very heart, the pair of you have butted heads more than once on the matter; at the high and mighty goody two shoes act that you face the world with. All of the reminders about doing good deeds for the sake of being good, not stealing from just anyone nor going behind others backs rummaging through personal effects for answers or loot. Not to mention all of that time spent helping others and listening to their plights as though they were your own. Honestly, darling, you really do make things harder on yourself by playing into other people’s sob stories. 

♡ Astarion never suspected that the encounter at Moonrise tower could have changed anything.

♡ He’s uncharacteristically quiet as you leave the room together after dealing with Araj, but that’s because inside Astarion is absolutely seething. A familiar feeling of disgust he’d longed hoped to quash down burns a hole deep within his chest, opening old mental wounds as though freshly torn asunder upon his flesh. He’s mad at that damned drow; the way she looked down upon him, using honeyed words that he knew were a damn farce because for fucks sake he’d been using the same tactics for well over a century. That look, that calculated appraisal as Araj gauged what the vampire spawn could offer her in exchange for her potion made his skin crawl, all too familiar with the look that spoke volumes of his value - as a means to serve her own whims and not an actual person.

♡ And then, when he’d shown reluctance, she’d turned to you, as though you’d reign him in and get him to bend to your will like some fanged pet you kept on a tight leash. Far from the truth, of course, but the lack of autonomy that Astarion felt watching the pair of you converse about him as if he wasn’t even there had him clenching his teeth hard enough that the ache in his jaw persists long afterwards.

♡ There had been a swell of satisfaction when you put your foot down on the matter, nipping her demand in the bud with a firm reminder that he had already refused her request - there was no more to discuss. The drow had gotten bored after that, uninterested in further discussion with her own desires now off the table, and Astarion was all too happy to be out of there as you trailed a few paces behind.

♡ Astarion stands by his choice, but another part of him kicks himself for turning down the reward. A moment of discomfort, to give up a piece of himself for a potion that could prove invaluable was all it could have taken. He had done it before - done it for centuries to placate that vile beast he once served - why would this be any different? A transactional relationship, one that could have given you a leg up in the battles ahead, and he’d refused. 

♡ He’s still stewing in these thoughts when a nudge breaks him from his reverie, a gentle brush of your fingers against his hand as you move into step beside your partner. Your touch is warm yet he prickles as though he’s been burned, pupils akin to pinpricks as he looks at you from the corner of his eye. He’s measuring you, for a moment. Takes in the brow furrowed and questioning eyes - not pity, concern - trying to gauge how he’s feeling. It’s a discussion for later, so Astarion dons that usual placating smile and turns to you, fully prepared to pull a spiel about that whole conversation being a waste of your perfectly good time. And then he notices.

♡ His ears perk up at a noise, the gentle slosh of something moving. Crimson eyes dart down to the source, to the hand you’d touch him with. It’s not empty - no, fingers curl tight around the corded neck of a familiar glass green bottle, and your nudge this time is more insistent as you press the bottle into the palm of his hand, urging him to take it. You relinquish the bottle to his hold, pale hands taking the glass and stirring up the liquid inside as he brings it up to get a better look. Surely this isn’t…

♡ But then sure enough you smile, a mischievous twinkle in your eye that makes his own widen as you shrug.

♡ “For you. Figured she didn’t need it anymore; since she just left it lying out in the open and all.”.

♡ The laugh comes before Astarion can stop himself - loud and unabashed from the sheer absurdity of it all. You? Actually stealing something? And for him no less! And they say that romance is dead, yet here you are wooing him one stolen novelty at a time. 

♡Hells he hadn’t even noticed that you’d swiped the damned thing - had it been when you’d turned the blood merchant down? Or back when she’d had her sights set on him? He doesn’t care for the answer, not really. He’s more impressed that you pulled it off, but Astarion certainly doesn’t miss the irony of it all. His lovely partner, casting aside your usual goody nature in favor of stealing something and getting one up on the woman who’d disrespected your lover. As if he wasn’t fond enough of you already - this was just another lovely little reminder of the lengths you’d go for him.

♡ His smile for a moment is all teeth, shoulders still shaking with the last dregs of laughter - which damn if he didn’t need - as he brings his free arm to curl around your side. The kiss pressed to your cheek is quick, vibrating with the appreciative hum that passes the spawn’s lips when you lean a little into him. Once he pulls away Astarion keeps his free hand looped around your side, the other holding the bottle up and giving the contents a dramatic little shake to show off.

♡ Perhaps he’ll keep this as a little secret; or maybe he’ll spend the rest of that night flaunting this potion teasing you for your first act of casual thievery. Whatever the outcome it’s worth the grin he flashes you as he gives a conspiratory wink and declares.

♡ “Oh my dear. We’ll make a fine miscreant of you yet!”

[minus-plus-zer0]

"You Know You're Fictional, Right?"

♡ Genre: Fluff, crack ♡ Pairing: Bakugou x Fem!Reader ♡ Tags: Established relationships

You just wanted to fuck with his head, that's all.

"Katsuki," you said to your loving and ever-patient boyfriend, "you know you're fictional, right?"

"Hah?"

You leaned on his bedroom desk, giving him the utmost pitying and concerned look. Bakugou was not having it today.

"Don't you got anything better to do than to mess with me?!" Bakugou banged his fist on the desk. "Why the hell are you accusing me of being fictional?"

"I'm only warning you for you own sake," you said, voice wobbling from sadness. Bakugou just narrowed his eyes at you. "I've wanted to tell you for a while... but..." You sniffled. "I didn't know how to bring it up!"

"So now that we're dating, you wanna pull this shit?"

"...Yes? I-I just needed to earn your trust before I--ah!"

Bakugou tickled you and you giggled, wrenching yourself away from his evil fingers. You caught your breath a short distance away from him, while he grinned madly in his seat.

"Got you back," Bakugou said, satisfied at your state of disarray from the tickles. "Now don't go calling me fictional again! I'm your real boyfriend! Not a fake one. Who do you think you're calling 'fictional'?"

"But what if I have to go back to my home world someday? you asked. "You can't just avoid this conversation, Katsuki!"

"I can and I will. Now, are you gonna cuddle with me or not, babe?"

You sighed and curled up in his lap while he finished his homework. You continued to ramble on about your theories regarding your shared world, how superpowers weren't natural, and how even All Might didn't exist in the world you supposedly came from.

“Am I the most popular in your world?” he asked, barely trying to humor you. “Or do those idiots got bad taste?”

He was the most popular, but you wouldn’t tell him that. “No, it’s actually Midoriya.”

“What?! Him?! You’re lying! That world is messed up.”

“You still have plenty of fans though!”

“...Are they weird and creepy fans?”

“Um… define ‘weird and creepy’.”

“Uggggghhh." Bakugou held you tighter in his lap. "Just shoot me.”

“Don’t say that!" You stroked his head. "At least people still like you at all! They love seeing your adventures!”

Bakugou slammed his pencil on the desk. “That wasn’t for them to see! That was private! You hear me? Private!” Bakugou lowered his voice, his face close to yours. “What goes on between us is private too. Now don’t go telling your little imaginary friends what we do. That’s only for us to know.”

Bakugou kissed you and then turned back to his homework. You sighed and wrapped your arms around his neck.

“You still don’t believe you’re fictional,” you murmured. “Poor baby is in denial.”

"It’s ’cause your world sounds boring," Bakugou said, mindlessly writing out answers in his homework. Then, he turned back to you. "You should stick with this one. I want you staying here forever. You’re mine.”

"Katsuki, I was only trying to prank you. Of course I'm staying here!"

"Then why the fuck did you bring up all that sad shit about leaving to your own world! Don't say that kinda crap outta nowhere!"

"But that's my specialty."

Bakugou kiss-attacked your face, making you giggle as you swatted his terrifying kisses away.

"Specialty my ass," Bakugou said, beaming at you. "Go be special at something else then, how about that? Like tell me about your day or who's been bugging you. Don't go talking about how you're leaving me, it pisses me off."

"Katsuki, you know how my day was. We hang out all the time!"

"Well then fucking remind me!"

Nothing you did could convince Bakugou he was fictional, and maybe that was fine. The next day, you instead tried to make him believe that you were his fictional girlfriend, and he didn’t like that either.

“I didn’t get an imaginary girlfriend ‘cause I’m supposedly lonely, dammit!”

“I don’t know,” Kaminari said. “It sounds pretty plausible for you.”

The moment Bakugou’s hands started exploding, Kaminari ran away screaming. From then on, Bakugou had to prove to everyone that you and him were actually together and that no, dating him was not another one of your elaborate pranks. And from now on, Bakugou will side-eye you if you mention any other fictional crushes you have...

(This one has been sitting in my drafts for ages!)

[moonstruckme]

I saw ur last post so for tasm!peter.... maybe r has really bad period cramps and peter just takes care of her?? thank u!!

Thanks for requesting my love <3

cw: period cramps

tasm!Peter Parker x fem!reader ♡ 637 words

“Are you sure this is normal?” You’re sweating, for Christ’s sake, face all shiny and pinched despite the heating pad and the painkillers and the chamomile tea and the dark chocolate he’d made a trip to the bodega down the street to get you. “I feel like we should call a nurse hotline or something.” 

“Don’t.” You look over at Peter from the couch, voice tight with pain. “It’s normal. This is the way it is.” 

“Is it really?” he frets. His knee bounces as he scrolls on his laptop on the beanbag beside you. “It hasn’t been this bad before, has it?” 

“Not in a while,” you admit. “Just once or twice a year, it’ll get like this.” 

Peter shakes his head, looking at his laptop. “Have you talked to anyone about it? I know lots of doctors talk about period pain like it’s never a big deal, but sometimes—” 

“Are you really about to explain to me about how women’s pain gets dismissed in healthcare?” You frown. “Seriously?” 

He winces. “Okay, yeah, you know this. Just, I know this isn’t my area of expertise, but I’m reading up on uterine cysts—” 

“I don’t have a cyst.” 

“There’s just no way this can be normal, sweetheart.” It feels like he’s pleading now, either with you or with whatever higher power is putting you through this. “There’s no way it’s supposed to hurt this much even with painkillers in your system.” 

“Some girls throw up or pass out,” you tell him, a bit gentler now. 

“I know,” he sighs. “I know, and it sucks that womankind has to go through that, but it’s worse when it’s you, you know? You’re my girl. You’re not supposed to hurt.” 

“Peter.” 

You sound almost pitying, and when he looks over you’ve softened considerably. The pain must have ebbed for the moment, because the space between your brows is smoother, the muscles around your eyes relaxed for the first time in hours. 

“Close out webMD, honey,” you say with a little smile. “It’s not going to help.” 

Peter obeys, shutting his laptop and slipping off the beanbag to kneel beside your head. He feels his eyebrows pinch as he cups your face. You’re running a little fever, though you’d assured him that’s normal too. When he dies, he’s got some serious questions for the guy upstairs; this is inhumane. 

“What can I do that will help?” he asks. 

Your mouth pulls up on one side. “You’ve already done a lot,” you say with a pointed glance to the tea and chocolate on the coffee table behind him. 

“Give me something else,” he begs. “You want tickets to disney world, pretty girl? Ask and it shall be done.” 

You huff a laugh, the sound doing more to Peter’s heart than it really has any right to, then look just to the left of his face. “Could you hold me?” you ask shyly. 

For a second, Peter’s frozen. “Yeah,” he breathes, then kisses your cheek emphatically, standing. “Yeah, baby, why didn’t you ask sooner?” 

“You seemed busy,” you say as he climbs over you on the couch, trying to maneuver you onto your side without disturbing your heating pad. 

“Busy freaking out about how useless I feel, you mean.” He presses both hands to the heating pad, shuffling around until you’re slotted perfectly against his front. “If I can do anything to help, you tell me, okay?” 

“Okay,” you murmur, smiling when he leans over to press a kiss to your cheek. “I’m good now, though. This is nice. Can we just stay here for a while?” 

Peter pffts, the show of indignance doing little to hide his fondness for you. “Sweetheart, I’ll stay here all week if you want me to. You just peel me off when you want something to eat.”

[stvrlightgirl]

✧˖°. So caught up in you ✧˖°.

part two

part one ←

summary: Your second meeting doesn’t really go as you planned, but you couldn’t complain. After all he asked you out on a date, right?

pairing: primary school teacher!remus lupin x single mom f!reader

warnings: fluff, idiots in love, Remus is a lovesick puppy, Marlene McKinnon, cause she deserves it, talking about tough times, but nothing bad.

wc: 2,4k

Enjoy!

“So you say he’s pretty hot, huh?” Marlene looked at you with a sly grin dancing on her lips, as she spoke.

You rolled your eyes at her suggestive tone, and almost instantly, you can feel the heat rising in your cheeks, causing you to subconsciously look away and hide your face in the comforting warmth of your coffee, as you take a slow sip to cover your flustered expression.

“I-I do think he’s…more attractive than an average man, yeah, but it’s doesn’t change anything.” you stammer in defense. "He's Molly's teacher, for goodness sake!" You huff under your breath, taking another, nervous sip of your coffee to divert your focus from the embarrassing topic.

Marlene lets out a hearty laugh, shaking her head in playful disbelief. "Oh, come on now," she teases, a cheeky smirk playing on her lips. She repositions herself to a seated position on the couch, to see you better.

You've known Marlene since you were diaper-wearing kiddos running around the playground, and she's been your rock throughout the years. No matter how tough times have been, she's always been there for you, even during your darkest days. When you got pregnant and after giving birth, she never gave up on you. You can't even count the number of times you've cried on her shoulder because life has been hard, and you've felt lost.

And moments like that reminded you of just how well she actually known you. Maybe even better than you’ve known yourself.

“ I don’t know…” you sigh, looking down at the floor to collect your thoughts. “I actually felt something, when he looked at me, but maybe it was just my imagination running, you know?” You chuckled as your hand squeezed the mug tighter. “He was just nice” you shrug. “He had to be nice, it’s his work.” You tried to convince yourself.

“But he's single, right? I mean, you're pretty as fuck and certainly not stupid, so you must have noticed that he's into you!" She raised her voice in frustration. "Why would he approach you if not because he finds you hot?”

“I don’t know if he’s single, Marlene, why would I care?” You frowned. “Besides, I’m not going to ask him that question, never.” You put the mug down on the shelf and then rubbed your face with your hands. “It’s just stupid crush.” You let out a half-hearted chuckle, looking back at her.

“Ha! So it’s a crush, you said it yourself!” She pointed her finger towards your direction as a mischievous smile grew bigger on her face, causing her nose to wrinkle. “I just can’t understand the fact that you don’t want to to be dicked down by a hot teacher, I mean, you’re wasting your time, maybe someone could finally jump your bones so that y-“

"Alright, that's enough, Marlene," you replied firmly, feeling the blood rush to your cheeks as embarrassment washed over you. Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath, trying your best to regain composure. “It’s just not easy for me, and you know that, I wish I couldn’t overthink every aspect of my life, it’s tiring.” You gulped.

She looked at you with a knowing expression, the kind that mixed pity and understanding. You knew that look all too well, and hated seeing it on her face. It made you feel vulnerable again.

"Please don't give me that look," you whispered under your breath, a hint of pleading in your tone.

"I’m just worried about you," she murmurs, her gaze dropping to the carpet beneath your feet. "It's been nearly 7 years."

It’s been seven years since your last relationship. That night, when you told him about your pregnancy, should never happened. You should know better, but you were blinded by a manipulative fucker, who ran off the second he heard that you were carrying his baby. Since then it was hard for you to find someone who could understand your complicated situation, and you just stopped going to dates years ago.

You got used to the fact, that’s it was just you and Molly. And now that you had your life fixed up, why screw it all up by some dude?

"I don’t want to talk about it. " you backed away with to the hallway to grab your car keys “I have to be in Molly’s school in fifteen minutes.”

She rose from her seat on the couch and gracefully glided across the room to the corridor, her footsteps silent on the hardwood floor. As she approached, she leaned against the door frame and gazed at you quietly, her eyes searching your face.

“Just think about it, that’s all I ask.”

You sat down to pull on your boots, your gaze drifting towards her. She was staring at you intently, her determination clearly etched on her face. Her unwavering, steely gaze held a familiar stubborn resolve. You’ve seen it countless times before.

"Okay, okay, I'll think about it, but i can’t promise anything. " you finally relented, holding up your hands in defeat. Her eyes widened, and a squeal of excitement escaped her lips as she jumped up and down in front of you like an elated child. You couldn't help but smile at her reaction.

It won’t hurt to try, right?

Despite his natural talent for public speaking, which was crucial given his job working as a teacher, he found it difficult to concentrate his mind on anything today.

It wasn’t because he didn’t slept well, or his mood was worse than usual, it was because of you. You couldn’t leave his thoughts since he saw you for the first time in the hallway. That sweet smile adorned on your face when you spoked to your daughter, and the look you gave him, when you found his eyes for the first time. He just couldn’t stop thinking about it.

The meeting was supposed to be chill, just some parents chatting about their kids, wanting to know their recent progress, just like every month. But things got way more complicated when you showed up. He must have been seriously sick to hallucinate the room lighting up when you walked in. Clearly, your mere presence was playing tricks on his overtired brain. He felt like a mad person.

“Mr. Lupin?” An irritated voice snatched him away from his mind. He quickly moved his gaze to the woman speaking to him. She was standing there with her arms tucked into her coat.

“Yes, what was the question again?” He raised the corner of his mouth nervously.

“I just asked about the school trip.” She huffed, clearly impatient.

Remus spoke, twirling a pencil in his hand to quell his anxiousness. "Right, yes. We plan on taking kids to the ranch next week, and the tickets are free, so we just need your permission for this one," he managed to say, his voice betraying a hint of nerves. “There will be a list on my desk, you can sign up, or not, and that’ll be all for today. I think we managed to raise all the issues earlier.” He reached for a piece of paper from his briefcase and placed it on the desk. A faint smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

He couldn’t help but take a glance at you again.

You were chatting quietly with some parents in the back. He couldn’t help but feel being pulled back again to his trance. Maybe he shouldn’t thought about you that much? What if you already had someone else waiting for you at home? If not, he wanted so badly to know you better. You were pulling him towards like a fucking magnet.

After a while, when everyone began to gather around the desk to sign the list, you stayed behind, in no rush to join them. Finally when you stood up and made your way to the desk he felt his heart speeding up. Leaning over, you picked up a pen before quickly scribbling your signature next to Molly's name. You were closer than ever, and he could feel your perfume from such close distance. They were sweet. A hint of vanilla mixing with orange blossom and rose. The strands of your hair had escaped from behind your ears, cascading like a waterfall of silk down your face. They framed you, gently brushing against your skin as they fell.

He wanted you so bad it hurts his insides.

Remus watched you for a moment, a million thoughts swirling in his mind. He wanted to say something, anything, but the words seemed to get stuck in his throat.

As you straightened up, your gaze landed on his, and for a split second, you both locked eyes. There was a brief moment of connection, a fleeting glance that seemed to hold a thousands of unspoken words.

Your voice whispered through the empty space, the soft sound catching his ear and causing him to startle momentarily. "Molly said that they were painting pictures today," you murmured, your smile gentle as your gaze drifted out the window.

"Yeah..." Remus nodded casually as he leaned back, his shoulders relaxing slightly against the chair. He pushed back his soft strands of hair with hand, when they’re got dangerously close to his forehead. “It was supposed to be a way to get them to calm down for a bit.” He chuckled, his eyes seeking yours. “But it turned out into pure, colourful chaos.” He pushed himself up, closing the distance between you to stand by your side. His hands slid into the pockets of his jeans.

He wore them again, but today his sweater was sage green,and his wrist was adorned by a brown leather-watch on his wrist, and he even got boots to match.

He stole a glance through the window, his eyes falling upon you as you gazed at the scene. The empty playground outside was being caressed by soft wind, golden leaves carried away in a gentle dance around the area.

“It must’ve be-“

“Actually I-“

You both chuckled at the same time, gazes meeting and in an instant, it felt as if the world around you faded away. It was that gleam in his eyes, that captivated you so much.

“Go on.” you said gently, encouraging him to continue. Your voice was soft and quiet, the words barely above a whisper. A small, shy smile tugged at the corners of your lips, and a faint blush stained your cheeks.

He looked back at the window to collect his thoughts.

He chuckled softly, "I just never introduced myself properly, which is kind of rude, to be honest." You sensed a hint of playfulness in his voice. “I’m Remus.”

He held out his hand, and as yours met his much bigger palm, that familiar tingling sensation shot through you again, just like when you bumped into each other in the hallway.

His hands were warm, but in that moment, they seemed almost scalding. Your own skin tingled under his touch, the heat from his fingers sending ripples of sensation radiating through you. As he held your hand, you couldn't help but notice the stark difference between your own cool touch and the comforting warmth of his palm.

"Y/n." you replied gently, your voice was barely a whisper not wanting to break the spell of the moment as you held onto his hand, or maybe he held onto yours, you couldn’t tell.

Your name slipped from his tongue like a cloud on a rainy day, soft and soothing, yet with a gentle rasp that sent a shiver down your spine.

A moment passed, and as he released your hand, and immediately a feelings of emptiness washed over you.

“Well, it’s nice to finally know your name, Remus.” You smiled when small blush appeared on his cheeks.

His name sounded different on your tongue as if it had been destined to be spoken by you. Each syllable rolled off your lips effortlessly, like it was always supposed to be there. He found himself hanging on every sound, relishing the sound of his name in your voice.

"So...," he began, pausing to clear his throat nervously. His voice dropped as he continued, "Are you free this Friday?" He looked down to observe your reaction, his lowered gaze catching the hint of amusement on your face.

just think about it, that’s all I ask.

When you shifted to face him directly, you were startled by the sheer height difference between the two of you. He seemed to loom over you, his tall stature making you feel practically tiny in comparison. You hadn't noticed just how much taller he was until that moment. You couldn't speak for a second, overwhelmed by a potent mix of shock and panic. Adrenaline coursed through your veins, setting your body on edge as you struggled to find the right words. Time seemed to freeze, your thoughts a whirl of unease and surprise as you stood before him, trying to make sense of the situation.

"Yes," you managed to say, despite the mixture of surprise and anxiousness coursing through you. "I am free this Friday." A small, shaky breath escaped your lungs. The words came out softly, almost a whisper, but they were clear enough.

His shoulders visibly relaxed at your answer, the tension in his frame releasing some of its tight coil. A small, anxious chuckle escaped him as he continued. "Great, because there's this small café in town, and they have the best coffee around. Only if you're up for it, of course," he added hastily, his nervousness betrayed by the slight waver in his voice.

“I would love to, Remus.” Your voice soft as you spoke, a shy smile playing on your lips.

God, you said his name again, he could die as a happy man now.

The school bell rang abruptly, causing you both to laugh in amusement at its timing. It seemed like the bell had a knack for knowing when to chime in, always breaking the moment between you with perfect timing.

And you couldn't have been more happier when, amidst the chaos of collecting his things and saying goodbyes, he asked for your number. You gave it to him with a fucking smile on your face, because you didn’t care. Seeing him today had reassured you that even if things won’t work out between the two of you, you'd still have your normal, happy life, so it wouldn't hurt too much. And plus, you really wanted to. He was cute even when he stammered for no reason.

It was official, you had a date with a hot teacher.

part three

a/n: I really love the idea that this two idiots are just so smitten with each other, that they can’t speak properly, but I promise, it won’t last for too long…hehe. Also, if you want me to tag you in my tag list, just dm me :)

another a/n: Just wanted to quickly announce that part 3 will be posted probably next Friday, because at the moment, im busy sunbathing on the wild beach and sipping on my drink. I hope you have a nice day too xoxo.

taglist:

@aheadfullofsteverogers

[ell0ra-br3kk3r-writes]

Who's Afraid of Little Old Me?

part two

pairing: (future) james potter x black sister!reader, regulus black x sister!reader

genre: angst with like maybe a little fluff?

el's thoughts: this is part two! hope yall enjoy! part three is in the works, i promise!!

main masterlist | regulus masterlist

“What do you mean you just spoke.”

Y/N groaned and threw her head down into her hands. She and Pandora sat under a large tree by the Black Lake. “What more can I say to simplify it?”

“Sorry, sorry. I just-” The blonde girl shook her head with a dazed smile. “I’m happy for you.”

“It was nothing to get happy about.” Y/N snapped, earning a barely scolding look from her approaching brother, causing her to mutter an apology. “It was just strange, that’s all.” 

Pandora sighed and laid back against the soft grass. “Hi, Regulus.”

“Pandora,” He hummed in greeting as he lowered himself beside Y/N, giving her a gentle yet tired smile. 

“How was your day?” Y/N asked.

“Far too long for my preference, if I were to be honest.”

Y/N chuckled, “I agree.”

The silence fell among the trio as they stared into the Black Lake for a few long moments before their peace was disrupted. The Marauders crashed through their little haven like a twister. James and Sirius raced to the water’s edge while Peter attempted to keep up and Remus strolled behind the group, reading his book. 

Both Black siblings rolled their eyes at the sight of the boisterous boys. 

“For Salzar’s sake.” Y/N cursed under her breath. “I think I’ll head back now.”

Pandora sat up with a frown molding her lips. “Oh, don’t let them spoil your evening, Y/N/N.”

She shook her head stiffly as she knotted her hair up with her wand. “It’s almost dinner anyway, I’ll save you both seats.”

Y/N started her trek up the small hill back to the castle, passing Remus where he sat with his nose buried in his book. He looked up causing the two to share a courteous nod with no words exchanged other than the polite mumble of the other’s name. 

“Oh c’mon! We’re brothers! Don’t do it!”

Her attention was yanked back to her eldest brother and his friend as they playfully fought, still by the water’s edge. James seemed to have been able to pick Sirius up, but he threatened to throw him into the lake. The sight caused tears to sting the back of her eyes as she never got to see her brothers jest around like the pair in front of her. 

‘What a cruel and unfair world.’ She thought to herself as she continued her walk up to the castle. 

~

The following morning went as normal. Y/N sat with the others at the Slytherin table, picking at the breakfast foods in front of her. Owls soon flooded the Great Hall and dropped letters and packages off to different students. First years students got care packages from their parents and long letters from their worried mothers and carrying fathers. Regulus and Y/N got a shared letter from their mother, and the pair shared a drained look. 

“Just what I needed.” Y/N rolled her eyes while she fed her owl some treats. 

Pandora looked between the two Black siblings with pitiful eyes. 

Barty placed a hand on Y/N’s shoulder and shook her around a bit. “Don’t stress it too much, Little Black. Just finish your dinner before you open it.” 

She only responded with a subtle nod as she made eye contact with a certain messy-haired Gryffindor. James watched her from across the dining hall with a creeping concern when he noticed the two letters drop in front of her and her brother. 

“Who’re you lookin’ at?” Sirius asked as he leaned over to see what James was staring at and quickly side-eyed him sharply. “What do you want with them?”

“Nothing, sod off.” James shoved him gently. “Eat your food.”

Across the hall, Y/N had opened her letter and read it quickly. She looked up to see Regulus’ eyes already on her, she shook her head and fought back tears. Her mother had done it again. She pushed herself up from the bench and rushed out of the dining hall.

In the meantime, Remus eyed James and looked back to Y/N as she left the hall but he didn’t express his thoughts. He had no reason to hate the Black twins but knew better than to get friendly with them for Sirius’ sake, but that never stopped him from carrying a cordial conversation with either of them. It wasn’t a secret that the twins had it rough back home—if you could even call it that. He was truly amazed by the talent each Black sibling performed with ease. They had perfected their masks. Unless you knew more than their family name, you would never know the terrors they have seen, except for now.

Within recent months, Y/N’s long-since-perfected mask had begun to slip. Shaking hands and stiff posture were only among the smaller signs. Her sudden bursts of anger would catch any passerby off guard as her friends and brother tried to do some damage control. Everyone at school can see the difference in her, but no one would know the cause of it. But one thing for sure is that she wasn’t Slytherin’s little princess anymore.

~

Y/N paced barefoot in front of Regulus’ room in the Black Manor. The winter holidays came upon the students of Hogwarts faster than expected this year much to Y/N’s demise. Her mother’s voice could be heard from downstairs as it echoed through the cold house despite the late hours of the night. 

Grimuald place had seemed magical to Y/N when she was a child. Running around with her brothers and always finding new hiding places. Only when they all got older did the squeals of children playing turn into screams of agony. Now the rooms they used to play hide and seek were haunted by memories of Sirius curled up on the floor begging his mother to stop.

The nearly silent creek of a door opening startled Y/N from her thoughts as she turned around to face her brother.

Regulus eyed her carefully in suspicion. “What are you doing up?”

“I-I came to come see you. Why are you up?”

“I was going to the loo. Are you okay, Y/N/N?”

Y/N’s eyes teared up at the question and she instantly avoided eye contact. Regulus sighed in pity for his sister knew what had kept her up till now. He took her into his arms and walked her to his bed, guiding her to lie down as he tucked her in under his sheets. 

“I’ll be back.”

She didn’t respond, only gave him a nod as she pulled the comforter up closer to her chin. A few minutes passed before Regulus returned to the room and shut the door behind him. He climbed onto the other side of the bed and pulled the sheets over him.

“You better not steal all the blankets again. If you do I’m putting you back in your room.”

Y/N giggled and turned to face him, holding an extra pillow to her chest. “That’d be more work for you than me.”

She could feel him roll his eyes at her before a comfortable silence settled over them. 

Just before Regulus was about to fall back to sleep, he felt Y/N shift under the bedding. He tried to ignore it for a moment until it was too much. He sighed aloud, “What’s wrong.”

“We should run away.” Y/N didn’t skip a beat, catching him off guard. 

“What?”

Y/N reached over him causing him to groan when her elbow dug into his stomach. 

“We should run away. It worked for Sirius, why wouldn’t it work for us?”

“It worked for Sirius because we were still here. We are still here. Plus, where would we run to that mother and father wouldn’t find us?”

She paused for a moment, thinking through just how wise it would be to voice her thoughts. “I have a small idea… But I’m not sure you’ll approve. I’m not even sure I approve.”

Regulus eyed her skeptically, “Y/N?”

“The Potters.”